Good Boy
by Dexterovna
Summary: The Spell hasn't worn off. Dean is still part dog, Cas is broken, Sam has to call up an old 'friend', and a certain trickster has to feel things. Hilarity/fluff ensues. Smut(NOT ANIMAL!KINK) in later chapters. Destiel and Sabriel. Posed after season 8 (Inspired by E/O challenge:Animal)
1. Chapter 1

The Bell rang out in the pet shop. Yeah, you read that right. Pet shop.

It had been almost a full 72 hours and Sam was already desperate. The spell wasn't wearing off and Garth gave the ever so helpful 'just wait it out' excuse over the phone late Monday night while dean mended his ear. The Hunt was done. The Colonel was (reluctantly) left with the vegan bakers and all's well that ends well. And then came the itching. Dean swore up and down that he hadn't been near any other dogs, not even had the urge to sniff a butt of a stray yorkie, and yet, under inspection, the fleas on his scalp might as well been trained by Ringling himself. They tried changing soaps and even got the 'human de-flea-r' crap form the store down the street but nothing had helped.

Sam thought of his brother sitting in the bunker, wrapped in some new cream thing on his head , and almost felt bad. Then remembered that he had found him chewing on Sam's laptop charger cord in his sleep and felt like taking the time to check if the stuff he was buying was truly the #1 Good Breeds Best Seller. Ambient music played on the speakers overhead and he passed jars of 'Buster's Approved PeanutButter!'. Why are so many dog related things have Bs in them?

He walked a little more elated to the impala with three different brands of dog shampoo and two jars of peanut butter.

Cas ran from his room to the bathroom across the hall as fast as he could without tripping on his pants and grabbed his angelblade and demon knife. The grunting got louder and reverberated throughout the hall. His shirt now wet,('you gotta dry off before putting on clothes, cas') he jumped over a pile of books left by the store-room door and ran into the giganticv workroom that led to the study. No red lights flashing, no slamming down of doors, just a lump in the middle of the walkway between the two areas shrouded by a thick blanket.

Moaning. Almost as if in a terrible pain, but sounded more like frustration. He saw a limb kick out from under the blanket, too fast for his now human eyes to catch the skin pattern and identify who or what was there.

It ached Cas's bones that he wasn't an angel anymore and the lightning sharp sense of fear in his throat alerted him to the fact and thus felt his determination steel. He lowered his blades, putting the Divine Object in his pack pocket but keeping the Demon blade secure in his hand. ('Never let go of it, cas')He approached the object cautiously and noted that it was shrouded in a familiar cloth. Sam's bed blanket? It was obviously alive, but in a tremendous amount of pain. How did it get in? Where was Sam and Dean? He remembered Sam saying he was leaving, but Cas had been asleep. He had been for the past few hours? Days? Yes. Days.

The mass was now trembling a little and small quick breath's escaped from what he assumed was the creature's mouth. Cas stepped closer, about to uncover the blanket('Slow and steady, cas')

And a sudden flash of full body movement erupted from the blanket. Surprised, he fell back, the angel blade slipping out of his pocket and clattering to the floor. "Curses.."

"Cas?" Castiel looked form the floor to see Dean and found him leaned on one hand on the ground and another around his own blade. He was leaned as if trying to rise from a relaxed position; the blanket draped across his waist.

It was then that Cas realized that the noises Cas was hearing was Dean having a nightmare.

But why sleep out in the hall, instead of Cas cocked his head and was about to speak until- "Cas!"- arms enveloped him and he was knocked backwards a few steps. He Winchesters do not...hug...often.

"Dean" exasperated, and confused he continued the previously interrupted sentence, "Why are you making noises of pain?"

Something is wrong. But he saw no lesions or head bumps. The blade pressed against Deans exposed arm, a result of him pinning that hand to Cas' side via the arm around waist, confirmed no demon activity. He also knew the bunker was protected to the nine. The ruins carved in the floor they were standing on would have rendered Dean immobile if anything other than human was in there.

Dean continued to hold on, Nothing more than one arm around his shoulder and one around his waist, as customary of a Winchester hug, needed to secure his hold, and spoke over Cas's shoulder an earthshattering response.

"I thought I was alone, man."

Cas breathed out. Of course. He had been sleeping too long and thus they probably forgot he was even or that he was ok. He put a collused hand on Dean's back with his free arm and patted a cautionary 3 times.

He hoped Sam would return soon.

**Hope you like this chapter**

**Reviews welcome!**


	2. Chapter 2

I decided to give you another one after forever

This should have surprised him, seeing dean there practically dancing around cas ,as a big slice of pie was being cut. But everybody and their mother would'nt have be surprised. It was way too natural in their minds.

What the weird part was Dean saying 'big slice big slice big slice' over and over like a 5 year old.

Sam could hear dean's pats on the linoleum from the kitchen. He turned his back while holding a phone to his ear. "Yeah. We don't know, Garth." Sam heard the clink of cutlery. "Al right. Not that much. Somewhat."

A bit more clinks behind him. Sam paced in the hall and sat down at the first chair he could reach, back against the wall that held the kitchen door. "You can't tell us anything?"

A tap on his shoulder made him turn to his right. Cas' solemn face peered down at him. "Dean is requesting a 'fudge pop', but I cannot locate it. Do you know where it is?"

Sam looked back down to the pad in his hand. He had scribbled down some notes on dean's unusual behavior and dated each one. It was getting longer for each day. "In the freezer cas."

Cas turned back through the door as Sam caught himself. He stood "wait cas, don't give h-"

Dean was sitting in the chair with his face moving furiously against the plate, with remnants of the apple pie stuck to the edge of his ear. He looked up, and Sam saw that he had been licking it. "This is REALLY good pie man." Dean said before going back to licking.

'Of course.' He added that to his list before looking at cas across the room currently reading the back of a Fudge Pop box. "Sam, this has chocolate in it. I don't think we should give it to Dean." He chucked it back into the fridge, causing Dean to turn to him and whine.

Sam remembered when he came home today- that's still a weird word for him- and saw Cas and him actually **hugging.** Both whipped their heads to the door when Sam slammed it shut and to Sam's dismay disbelief, Dean didn't bluster out a half-assed sentence involving 'shut up' while stomping out the room, oh nooo. Dean bounded right up to him and served up another hug.

"you were gone forever man where you been" Came in a rushed sigh from Sam's shoulder. He was tempted to get out the holy water but remembered a- Cas would have tipped him off if something was 'unholy' about dean, and b- Dean was still a dog and thinking that you're never coming back when you leave for a little bit is definitely dog behavior. He awkwardly pried himself away from his brother and looked at him weird regardless. "I was at the pet shop, remember?" The bag in his hand that was held up for all to see caused an excited calm to spread on Dean's face.

"Wait is that stuff for me?" He pointed to the blue bag. Sam sidestepped him and walked to the table in the study, Dean behind him and Cas staring after them with his quizzical look. Sam made a note to ask about it later but thought it was probably nothing since that was just what Cas was. Soft shuffles, deep gravely questions, and quizzical looks.

It was then, you see, that Sam remembered that he had left his brother in his room. With a shower cap on his head and strict instructions not to move. He saw the blanket he had wrapped Dean in ("what if I get cold? Huh? Then what?") on the floor near the step up to the study in a heap and wondered where the cap was. He mused at the thought of dean actually ripping it up. But the smile faded when he glanced at dean's head and realized he probably hadn't kept it on for more than 5 minuets after he had left and subsequently ruined the process of the flea cream in his hair. "Go wash your hair." He tried to look at dean pointedly yet casually. Almost-commands seemed to be the only thing that got him to cooperate in these trying times.

"why? C'mon dude I've been in and out of the shower all day!" Sam sighed and pulled out the pie he picked up from the market next door to the pet shop. He held it against his chest so Dean could see and looked at him, much more pointedly and less casually.

"Go. Wash."

The light in his eyes disappeared as Sam said it and Dean grumbly trudged off to the shower but not with out a 'not fair' to be heard. Cas turned from staring after dean to now look at Sam, the quizzical look a bit more intense.

**Tryna get into Cas's deal reeeeal soon.**

**Reviews welcome!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Holy shit I LIVE TO TELL ANOTHER TALE!**

And so it wasn't long after his shower that the team and Dean found themselves in the kitchen. Sam had reminded him that people use towels and not their hands and mouth to remove pie crust form one's face. Currently, the group sat around the small metal table with Dean and Cas on one side and Sam on the other with a laptop.

"So." Dean clapped his hands after successfully cleaning his face. "Whats the next hit?" He rolled up his sleeves a bit more as if they were going to leave for a hunt now. Sam quickly realized that that was exactly what he expected to happen.

"Dean. We're not going on a hunt." He looked up from typing to give Dean a practiced 'Hell No.' face. Close to bitch face #24. Dean threw him a 'are you serious' mixed with a 'bitch, please'. This caused Sam to go ahead and fully pull out bitch face #24. Cas decided to jump in on the unspoken conversation.

"Dean, you are in no condition to go on a hunt. Sam is right."

And ooohhhh if Sam didn't wish he had a camera for the look of betrayal on Dean's face as he whipped to Cas.  
>"What? Are you saying I'm a bad hunter?"<p>

"Wh- no. I'm saying that you are a hindered hunter. And you would not likely survive in this state." Cas looked at him with sincerity and regret at implying the hunter was not the best he'd ever seen. With the exception of Sam of course.

It was always a funny thing to him, how he felt about the Winchesters. The brother's were nothing to him just a century ago, and yet here they were. Changed him down to his very core and he hadn't run from it. He welcomed it. He stayed with them by their sides. Because these humans, out of all the millions upon millions he observed, these humans were lights to him. They would flicker and die out form time to time, but they returned. Always.

And he hated the fact that they probably didn't even know how grateful he was for their friendship. His heart did ache a little every time he though that even though he lost his divinity, and became a monster, they still welcomed him. He hated that they could no longer feel his love through if he were to give a simple hand touch, no longer able to let them feel it pulse through his grace. Though, he's trying very hard to forget that he doesn't have his grace. Even though it is a lot like a human forgetting they ever had a limb, only….stronger. As if to forget that you could see, smell, taste and touch. Only leaving one or two of the senses.

The relief on Dean's face when Cas uttered words of approval did ease the self-hatred a little more. But amped up Sam's own inner workings. It was obvious to him that his brother had a thing for Cas that was a little more than a 'un breakable bond'. Anytime he had tried to bring it up, the radio was cranked up to ear-bleeding levels, or suddenly there was filing or gun cleaning to do. Looking at the two gave him an idea.

"Yeah, sooo,Cas and I have to go get supplies for your reversal spell. So, you are gonna sit right here."

"The entire day?!" Dean's face now mixed to disbelief with a hint of panic. He hated being alone. What if they don't come back? A whine was building in the back of throat, just thinking about it. Alone. Forever. Fuck that.

"Cas will stay, right?" Sam had a hard time holding back his smirk. Dean turned casually and threw Cas a lopsided grin that came out looking a bit strained. "Right? Sam doesn't need two people to get supplies. And like you said, Im not in peak form."

Sam was beside himself.

"It...would be wise if you had someone to make sure condition does not worsen.." He looked across the table and Sam wasn't sure if he saw a glimmer in his eye. But he doesn't blame him. Dean and Cas have always had a special bond, romantic or not. He knew it would always be a little different. And being with someone who had a special bond might do both of them some good, with Cas loosing his grace but 2 months ago, and Dean not being on a case has got him agitated.

He put on a nonchalant face.

"Yeah actually that's better. Make sure Dean doesn't get into the bacon."

He closed the laptop with a click and left the room to start gathering his things. If he was honest, there was no list of supplies. He had no idea how to cure Dean. But he needed to get out of the bunker in order to find out. It was true, he couldn't leave Dean alone like this. His 'condition' was getting worse over the past few days and he would only be gone 2 more at most, but he really didn't want him to start chewing on important things(god forbid weapons) or get distracted by a squirrel on the side of the road. And there was no way in hell would he let him meet the guy he was going to see. That would be a complete disaster.

So, of course Cas would stay with Dean. He just wanted to milk it a little. Just to have something to chuckle about on the road.

And so he stood by the door of the bunker, explained that he was going to be gone a day or two, to call him, no, he would call them to check in, and gave Cas one last parting gift. More of a gift form himself- another thing to chuckle about.

"And don't let him cook." Was Sam's last words as he closed the heavy door behind him and trotted up the woodland area to the Impala. Cas looked down at his hands and read the title. "Dog Training for Dummies."

"Now that he's gone," Dean called form behind him, "lets watch some actual good tv."

The silent feedback from the tv being turned on filled the room.

**This feels kinda short but I gotta plan I promise shhh don't worry**

**Reviews Welcome!**


	4. Chapter 4

**It must be christmas cuz im ****cranking**** these chapters out like its NOTHIN.**

**Hint, this one is about peanut butter.**

Sam had left Dean in Cas's charge not 2 hours, and already Dean had been pestering him about the peanut butter. It had started casually. Dean spread on the couch while Cas busied himself with loading the dishwasher.( Sam had taught him how weeks before.) A nonchalant yell of 'Hey didn't sammy bring back some groceries?' made him stop a second to reach for the green plastic bags. He slowly put away Sam's goods in the cupboards. 20 minutes later came the next cry of "What did he get?"

Cas was done with the dishes by then, just putting the dishwashing fluid away, and had forgot about it. He turned to Dean quizzically and found him looking attentively towards the front kitchen(not the back one they had been at before, discussing who was babysitting Dean) and expectant.

"Oh! Uhh.." Cas looked up for a minuet. "Shampoo, and Peanut Butter." He turned, thinking that the end of it. He found himself enjoying a slight release of pleasure in being able to sedate Dean's intense curiosity. He chuckled at how pathetic it was. Feeling some sort of use, just by answering a question, would make him feel better.

The Third time called Dean on his feet, appearing right behind Cas as he was receiving a pot and can of soup, and surprised him. Not because he couldn't hear him, he still had fast reflexes and adaptive, if not 'superhuman', hearing. But because Dean had come so close behind Cas that they were almost touching. Dean had always been one for personal space. He had always reminded Cas of his boundaries in that rough voice that never really offended Cas as much as he thought it should have.

"Did he get peanut butter?" He was staring at Cas as if to have the answer written in small script on his cheeks and he didn't want to miss it, and Cas wondered if this was what Dean meant about 'getting out of his ass'. He smelled the laundry detergent in his clothes.

"Y-yes. Dean." Cas looked back at him with less intensity, but got to what he was referring to. Dean wanted peanut butter.

"Maybe you should sit down."glanced at the big table in-between the entertainment room and kitchen to emphasize his meaning. Cas was concerned that it might harm him as fudgepops would and was suddenly agitated to get Dean away, which later he would find odd. Dean just blinked back at him and said in a nonchalant manner "I'm gonna get some peanut butter." and reached upwards to the cupboard to the left of Cas' head. Cas steeled himself and reached for the jar as Dean was pulling it out, successfully catching him by surprise and removing it from his big hands.

He readied himself to be yelled at or at least a scowl but none came. Only a sound of whiney-disbelief and a look on his face to match.

"Cas?! Dude!" He turned to his companion with arms slightly outstretched and palms upward as cas walked across the room to the book lying on the big table. The next few minutes consisted of Dean reaching over cas to grab the brown jar saying various versions of "Dude its just fuckign peanut butter its fine!" and huffing while Cas pointedly read a page and a half to himself titled "Things They Can and Can't Eat". After a minute more, Cas suddenly whipped around to Dean, which surprised him, looked at him sternly, not unlike a fed up parent on a road trip, and made sure to enunciate when he said "Sit." What surprised Dean even more was that he found himself plopping his ass hard onto the chair next to cas. He looked down at the table 'holy shit.' and refused to acknowledge how now he was at waist-height with Cas.

"I am checking if this is safe for you Dean." came the explanation form his angelic friend. Dean found himself feeling much like he did when he though Cas said he wasn't good enough to go on a hunt. He felt like Cas didn't trust him. His throat felt a little tighter at the realization. Then Cas disappeared from the table. And Dean didn't have to, no, want to look up to see his retreating form. He was leaving him. Again. Because who would stay beside someone if they didn't trust him. Dean couldn't hear the silent whine that escaped his throat.

"Here." Dean hadn't realized he had closed his eyes untill he popped them open to find a spoon of brown goodness inches form his face. He opened his mouth to claim it quickly, but it was snatched away even faster. He turned to find Castiel on the other end of the metal stick. "One. Spoon." Cas tried to sound stern but ended up sounding a little bit soft after hearing Dean beside himself when Cas told him to sit. So instead he worse a stern face but had a kind tone. He held the spoon still out of Dean;s reach and could tell he was trying very hard to stay seated but also wanted the peanut butter_. 'Look them in the eye and make sure they understand the command before you give them any kind of praise or treat_'. Cas waited.

Dean looked up at him like he was the reincarnation of christ himself(which almost made cas feel like he was whole again for a second. Almost.) and nodded, just a little nod, and Cas handed him the spoon to which he took greedily. Cas nodded to himself and turned to go put the jar back in its place and remembered the crucial part of this exercise.

"Good boy."

It was murmured almost too quiet for Dean to hear, but he did. And he damn near dropped the spoon.

Dean found himself delighted. And then disgusted at himself. Cas was training him, he realized.

And he liked it.

He quietly got up and huffed into the couch, not really caring what was on tv, spoon still in between his lips. Cas busied himself with seeing what they would eat for dinner. We should order food from a local restaurant, he thought a she looked in at the fridge. Dean's smacking was loud enough to break his thoughts. He turned to find a full grown man angrily eating peanut butter, getting it successfully clung to the roof of said man's mouth, and trying to angrily get it unstuck.

And for once in a long time, Cas found himself smiling.

**Getting to Sam soon alright? Alright.**

**Reviews are Welcome!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Wow ok i meant to upload this 2 days ago but my school's wifi would not let me get onto the internet. Aaand this is a short one cuz I felt bad about not uploading sooner and decided to just upload what I had.**

**ENJOY KIDDOS**

Sam's tired eyes read the clock on his phone numbly as he pulled into the parking lot. He groaned at the reminder that he had been driving for six hours straight. But it was worth it. Unanswered phone calls and prayers meant that he had to come out all this way to find this prick. And he had to give it to him, this was probably the last place they would have checked.

The neon lights of the Archer Brother's Funeral Home had been shut off for what looked like years, but Sam knew better than that. He had seen the ongoing obituaries they posted and knew that despite the outwards appearance, this place was very 'lively'.

The doors creaked open with a simple nudge of his lock pick as he reached for the gun on his hip. The main lobby smelled of tears and formaldehyde. Sam cautiously looked around and found nothing to greet him but eerie silence and a closed casket against the side wall. "oh come on.." he whispered to himself. There was no way he was falling for that trick. He knew the guy could come up with something better than that. He advanced towards the casket slowly, and flung open the lid.

Nothing.

He moved the satin pillow occupying the space and found nothing except for a small card wedged in-between the side of the bedding and the casket wall. He ripped out the offending parchment and found "Gotchya" etched in neat regal font on it. He groaned inwardly. So he had known he was coming.

"Heya Sammich." Sam whipped around to find a 5 ft 10in mischievous grin greet him. Hands clasped in front of his button down and fitted jeans made him looked much more reserved and quiet, effectively matching the building's façade with his own.  
>"Gabriel." Sam breathed out. He kind of expected to come here and find him long gone. He and Dean haven't seen the archangel since before the fall. "So..You're back to full health?" He was genuinely interested. Obviously he still had some tricks up his sleeve, based on his display of being able to appear.<p>

"Not full health. More like 65%." The lazy smirk shortened a bit. Sam felt a twinge inside him that probably had to do with feeling a little bad for the guy. His brothers and sisters had died not more than half a year ago. He was lucky to still have some of his grace and probably felt guilty about it. His family had died, and he had watched them. Unable to stop it.

"Well you still look like 25 to me." Sam's jab left his mouth in order to lighten the darkness in Gabe's eyes upon reminding him of his brethren and Gabe had taken it just as he always would.

"Aw thanks Sammy. Truth be told I'm not a day over 30." The lazy grin revamped itself on it's owner's face. "Although I think I might've gotten a few wrinkles form when you last saw me." Whaat? Ok well sure he did see Gabe a few times since the fall. But, He and Dean hadn't. The first time Gabe popped up, Sam almost forgot he could have been dead. It felt as if an old relative called. And Gabe had literally called. He had called Sam form a telephone pole near Lake Tahoe. The only reason Sam had gone to his aid was because that night Dean had pissed him off about this whole 'sacrifice for you' bullshit and they were in the area anyway. So he had stormed off to the poor little angel's side, and found him cut up and almost human. And they may or may not have had time to talk about what an asshole Dean was. And Sam may or may not have gotten a little bit used to being called 'Sammich' or 'Samsquache' or any other version of Sam other than 'Sammy' by the Archangel.

So here they were, face to face after a month and a half of no contact from either end. Sam assumed he had gotten his grace back and had left earth to go do whatever it is he would do and actually felt a little sad at the loss of companionship. Then he quickly forced himself to get over it and deal with more important things "You sure as hell got an entire road map on you're forehead. That brother still wearing you out?"

Sam's mouth now twitched into a small smile. Gabe would enjoy this story.

**In case you haven't noticed, I'm basically ignoring the fact that Gabriel 'died'.**

**Reviews welcome!**


	6. Chapter 6

**If you liked ch 4 you're gonna looove this one. I promise. Actually, don't hold me to that. **

**HAPPY DESTIEL DAY EVERYBODY!**

That night found Dean and Cas sitting on the couch with promises of food coming.

came on the screen and Dean was alert. Beer in one hand("Dammit cas, its fine give me the fucking beer.") and leaning on the other as he tuned his head, but not his eyes, to take a swig from his beer. He'd been like that, sulking, for about an hour,still pissed that he had practically wagged his tail at the common praise Cas had given him. He flicked his eyes towards him now, seeing his shape at the table not far away reading pamphlets. He saw the dark head lift and immediately snapped his attention to the television, refusing to let the other know he was looking at him.

"What would you like to eat Dean?" The gruff voice traveled over to him.

"Mhn." Came the equally gruff reply.

Cas frowned and looked back at the paper in his hand. "How about the Long horn Steakhouse?" He looked back at dean for conformation that he had said the name correctly along with an answer to the question.

Dean was actually surprised at how calmly he replied. "Sure."

Cas turned from the table, satisfied. "I'll grab my things."

After taking 20 minutes to order over the phone(which consisted of Cas trying and failing to order everything, Dean grabbing the phone and trying to order about 50 steaks, and Cas ending up fumbling through it) and a 10 minute fight over who should drive("Yeah, noone drives Baby but me."), a even more pissed Dean drove a very silent Cas 5 minutes to the local Longhorn.

He stopped the Car and slammed the door open and shut. "I gotta take a leak." leaving Cas to go in, interact with the waiter, and pay for the meal. He walked over to the nearby bushes and undid his fly.

Cas liked the smell of the cozy restaurant(he loved burgers), but it failed to cheer him up. He really had no desire to interact with this man, relaying the order over the phone was bad enough. He found a pimpled skinny redhead and made eye contact. The short boy sauntered over to the counter under the 'Pick Up' sign, and said "Hi welcome to Longhorns, how may I help you?"

Cas told him the order number he was given on the phone and Jerry(his nametag told him) promised to bring it out to the car when it was ready in 5 mins. Cas nodded and fixed his shirt collar as he was walking out. The slight v-neck was borrowed from Sam and he made a mental note to go get some clothes for himself.

The nippy air outside made him long for the pleasing smells of indoors. He almost went back in to sit down and save Jerry the trip, but a curse to his left made him stop. He glanced around for Dean and, when he didn't find him, followed the noise around the side of the building to the right of the drive through to find Dean there, with his hands clutching a large Sycamore Tree's trunk knots and his legs braced at the bottom trying to push himself up it.

"Fuck." He grunted as he slipped on his grip and was dropped back down an inch.

"Dean?" His head turned back to Cas but only changed his position to get a better foothold on a large tree root. "Hey, Cas, man, give me a boost will you?" He was jolted back down again, finding out that that foothold was not the best one.

"Wh-? Why?" Cas's brow furrowed in concern. Did he loose something in the tree? He raised pinched fingers so naturally that is shocked him once he realized how useless the motion was and took a tiny step back. Oh yes. He couldn't just 'zap' Dean into the tree.

Dean turned his head back to him and opened his mouth but was prematurely interrupted by a chitter up above. His face got red with anger and he fwipped back to the tree.

"You come down here and say that to my face yah jumpy bastard!" He lunged again at the tree. Cas was ready though, and grabbed Dean by the back of his jacket.

"Dean, calm down. Why don't you come inside, where it is warmer?" He started to lead Dean away from the side, and forcibly turned him around. "But you don't know what he's saying, man!" Dean tried to turn back around quickly and stomping back towards the tree, surprising Cas. He flailed and caught the angry man by the belt and begin to drag him back, Dean not losing eye contact with the apparent squirrel.

Cas thought inwardly at the depiction of a man walking his dog on a leash in the book he had been studying recently. He wondered if he should start carrying one with him whenever he went out with Dean. The belt was a crude way to lead him away. btu it seemed effective, even though he could hear him huffing with anger.

"He's a dirty little shit Cas." Dean managed to growl out, while being pulled backwards, literally by the seat of his pants.

The squirrel paid his threat no mind and continued to chitter.

Cas could see the back of Dean's neck now red. "Oh that is it I am comin for you.'" Suddenly, Dean gave a full body shake, efectivley surprising cas and losenign hsi grip enough to break free.

Knife now pulled out, he ran to the tree and again tried to climb it, only starting with a jump. Cas rushed to him and grabbed an arm which Dean struggled to shake off. "Dean!"

"No get off me Cas! That fucker has whats comin to him!" A bold jump left dean hanging on a low hangin limb, feet scrambling for a purchase on tree trunk, Cas now wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him down.

"Dean! Stop!" More scrambling of feet with an added body writhe in an effort to loosen Cas's hold was the only response Dean had given him. He again thought to how easy it would be if he had his powers. More chattering was heard form above.

"Dean!-ngh- Get!-ngh-DOWN." Suddenly he felt all of the hunter's weight collapse on him effectively making him fall. They both tumbled to the ground leaving Cas sitting on his ass and Dean bellyflopped horizontally across his lap painfully. Cas helped Dean roll himself over with a groan while he nursed his aching tailbone. Humans are so fragile.

He looked to Dean realizing he must be in pain as well and found him staring at the sky on his back with a skewed look on his face. Cas took the opportunity to study Dean's freckles, much like he had night after night when he had his grace. Before he could stop himself, the once-angel rested a hand on the head of the righteous man. Dean barely reacted, too used to the comforting touch while in pain, knowing it would remove it. He only locked eyes with his in pained confusion as they both realized that the gesture was now empty. A slight softness was present in Dean's eyes then, while a sore pain settled in Cas's. Cas felt that if he can't alive the pain, then he must at least thank Dean for letting go of the tree.

"Good-"Cas opened his mouth when he heard a small cough behind them_. _Both men turned to find Jerry holding 2 large plastic bags that smelled divine. Dean was suddenly up off his back and now sitting as Cas got up and brushed his pants.

He looked at Dean who now snapped his attention from the bags of food and was flickering between the bags and Cas. It was comforting to know that his self discipline as a hunter has translated to him even in this...hindered..state. Cas knew better than to let Dean carry the bags so he took them from Jerry, who never wiped the confusion from his face, and walked back to the car, Dean hot on his heels.

"Man, I'm starving." Dean finally said as they rounded the corner, the previous event along with him being mad at Cas, forgotten.

"No." Cas said as they got to the car. "If you eat, you can't drive."

"The hell I can!" He reached for the food which Cas moved ,just as quick, out of the reach of his hand.

"No. You almost killed a squirrel for saying a few bad things, and hurting yourself. So now you have to wait." This earned Cas a stern look.

"Look, you don't know what he was saying alright?" The nostril flare almost made Cas want to laugh. But, he couldn't break character. _Don't let them do a bad thing then get off scott free. If they get a treat after chewing your cushions, they they'll make your living room into a foam pit._

"No, Dean. " He then held up the bag for emphasis, "You've been bad, so now you have to wait." He then walked over to the other side of the car, missing Dean's shocked and angered face. But he did hear the huff, then subsequent slamming of the door.

At least the food trip had cheered up one of them.

**Ok, I'm gonna be honest this chapter was fun to write.**

**Reviews are Welcome!**


	7. Chapter 7

**You guys are leaving such great feedback and it warms me int he cold night. Thankyouguysholyhellthankyou!**

Gabriel's guffaws followed them back onto the highway and down the road on their way back to wherever Gabriel was staying. Sam had agreed to give him a ride then go find a hotel nearby. Sure, he was on an ok basis with Gabe but he wasn't jumping at the idea of braid each other's hair and talk shit about their brothers in their pajamas. He adjusted the air for the second time since they left the funeral home and again wished he had just taken the impala but knew Dean would have given him hell for it, so he just settled with his 'borrowed' mustang.

"so you left sweet little Cassie all alone with him? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to be my apprentice." Sam had to smile at this. He wondered if the trickster ever had taken someone 'under his wing' so to speak.

"Oh noo thank you. I'm good being not being dragged along on your...adventures."

Gabriel chuckled again. "Adventures.." He sounded a bit remorseful as he turned to look out the window. Gabe had always liked Sam. The tall galunk tickled him, as opposed to his quick to piss off older brother. Sure, it was fun to see him turn red, but if he had to pick one to drag along his crazy existence it would be Sam. Sam was always like a calm before a storm. Gabe knew very well what he was capable of, but he was just a pup compared to an archangel.

But now, he mused, the playing field is a bit more leveled…

"Turn right here." He pointed to the side road that deviated off of the main street they were on and Sam's jaw dropped in amazement for the second time this night.

"you live here?!"

He looked up through the windshield to see a place that looked straight out of a Nicholas Sparks novel. Quaint townhouses lined the street, while twinkling lights were on the corner about 100 feet away and he saw they continued down the curved hill. An black almost bronze pole led to a neat stop sign as they rolled to a halt accordingly. A woman walked bye with a golden Yorkie on a leash trotting in front of her. Gabe waved as she crossed the street in front of the car and gave the vehicle a warm smile.

Sam was sufficiently creeped out.

They rolled up the driveway two doors down, and walked the short cobblestone steps to Gabe's apparent door.

"Yeah I know, not exactly a high roller." He unlocked the door with a click and Sam was again shocked it did not open into a cavernous marble-lined lobby, but instead an equally quaint walkway with a coat closet to his right, small sitting area to his left, stairs were shown behind the closet door, and a entryway straight ahead.

"But I like taking a break every millennia." He whipped off his coat and side-stpped close to sam to shove it in the closet and a kick of cinnamon wafted to the tall man's nose. It reminded him of redhots and had half a mind to ask gabe for some. Then thought against it. He felt like 'angelic miracles' was a touchy subject at this point.

"Its home though. For now." He looked up at Sam, expectantly. Then he frowned and sauntered down the walkway. "But don't worry, I'm just on vacation so I can charge up." Sam wasn't paying attention to his receding voice, looking that the ceiling and lounge to his right in mild amazement, then jumped to find the shorter man not beside him. He quickly followed the sounds of clinking to the kitchen. It held a small island, with barstools, and a doorway to the far right that presumably led to a dining room that would connect to the lounge. A clock on the counter next to a teacozy- yeah. A teacozy.-read a little past 11.

"Here." A steaming mug of coffee was shoved in Sam's line of vision. He looked at Gabe warily. Last time he had accepted a drink from him, he ended up honking like a goose for an hour.

"No tricks I swear to Dad." Gabe held the other hand up. Again Sam regretted reminding him of his 'tricks', and took the cup, their fingers brushing as he grabbed it .

"Jesus sam, if you wanted to hold my hand, just do it. Don't fuck with me." Gabe leered with a smirk, which earned him the biggest of eyerolls and a chuckle. At least he wasn't all gone.

Sam sat in the nearby stool and sat the cup on the counter after taking a swig and contemplating. "Vanilla?" He could practically hear Gabriel smile, even though he was turned, busying himself with a cookie jar. He turned and held out one to Sam. "Correct."

He shook his head at the cookie and took another sip.

"So." Gabe piped as he closed the lid on the jar, and put it on the first- not top, much to sam's amusement- shelf. "Upstairs or downstairs?"

"Excuse me?" Sam raised his eyebrows, "I'm not staying."

"Samuel Winchester, I may not be at full power, but I still got juice." He put on a look reserved for those rare times when we wanted to, oh say, smite you where you stand. Or sit, in Sam's position. "I know you've probably been awake for about a week. You are staying and getting a good night's sleep." He still doesn't know why, but he has the gall to ask "Why?"

This time, Gabe served him an eyeroll. "Because I care about your health, believe it or not." He put his coffee on the counter he was leaning on, turning slightly. "And I'm not gonna help you with your little Fido problem otherwise."

Sam huffed out a small laugh. "So you'll help in exchange for me spending the night."

"I know you wanna spend the night Sam, but you really do need to sleep." He replied in mock pleading, not without a small wiggling eyebrows. This time Sam let a n exasperated half-smile grace his face.

"You know what I meant." He got up from the table and pulled out his phone at the same time. "I accept the terms."

"Well if you insist, I'll go and uh 'freshen up'." Gabe said to his back as Sam turned to walk into the dining room.

"Shut up" Sam yelled behind him in a sing-song tone as he dialed the number for the bunker. "Just go and get my sleeping spot ready."

He heard footsteps leave to go upstairs as well as a fiendish chuckle before he put the phone to his ear.

"NOT in your bed Gabe."

**Reviews are welcome! :D**


	8. Chapter 8

**I WENT TO PRIDE AND HAD TEH TIME OF MY LIFE AND WAS INTEH PARADE DONT TOUCH ME**

**I hope ya'll are ready for Halloween!**

And yet again, Dean's face was covered in some sort of edible substance. And he, as well as everyone else, knows it wont be the last. Cas was still nursing the bowl of tomato bisque soup. Dean had told him before that when you felt run-down, all you needed was a bowl of soup.

He sat comfortably on the worn couch the boys had dragged into the 'Living Room' that Dean had been lounging on hours before. Currently, he was sitting on the floor, happily licking his fingers and leaned against the foot of the couch by Cas's legs.

Dean sighed contently as he placed the last plastic container on the small coffee table in front of them, while the TV droned on about the importance of Julius Ceaser.

He sighed again and turned his head up to Cas. "Really?"

Cas dribbled a little of his soup down his chin whilst putting the spoon in his mouth when he glanced down and was surprised to see two very green eyes trained on him.

He quickly grabbed a napkin from the table and put his soup down, dabbed his chin, and quickly glanced away. He quietly panicked at the thought of Dean noticing him glancing his way about 12 times in the last 10 minutes. "What do you mean?" he managed to say over a tissue. He saw Dean squint in annoyance and say "we're gonna sit here and watch how some dude in a bedsheet died?"

Cas pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows, now fully turning his attention to Dean's smeared face. "Julius Ceaser helped form the new government and was a prominent figure in history." He snagged an extra napkin and held it out to Dean, who just snatched it and mushed it on his face, knowing it would piss Cas off, then tossed it on the table.

"Yeah well he's not important now so." and he leaned forward for the remote, but Ca shad already anticipated his movement and snatched it before the other man's hands made contact. Dean slowly turned to look at him, with bitch face #4. Well, bitch face #4 featuring remnant barbeque sauce.

"Cas. Give me the remote." His eyes never left his determined blue ones.

"I don't want to give you the remote." Castiel looked much like a petulant child that took testosterone with his warm milk every night. Dean threw back #7 and held his gaze. The television had moved on to talk about Ceaser's palace while they kept their eyes locked on another.

A shrill of the phone ringing broke the silence. Cas got up and stepped around Dean, still clutching the remote while Dean pursed his lips and huffed at the screen. He padded over to the phone on the Desk across the room behind the couch, now adorned in comfy pants , loose tshirt, and socks(he had found socks to be quite comfortable, and considered them a pleasure in human life) and picked up the phone with a click.

"Johnny's Pool Supplies, how can I help you?"

"I need to buy 65 noodles, no sauce." was said over the line.

"Hello, Sam."

"Hey Cas. How are you hold up?"

Cas glanced over his shoulder back at Dean, who was again definitely NOT looking at Cas's back. "Fine."

He turned back to face the wall of books on the other side of the desk. "Dean and I just ate Longhorns."

Sam chuckled. "Good. He probably liked the steak." Cas smiled and shifted a little.

"What have you found out about Dean's condition?"

"Not much. But uh...I might have found someone who can help." There was a sound of rustling.

"Sam?"

"yeah sorry Cas. Uh. Right. I think I found someone who can help. I'm about to sleep so I just wanted to check in. and make sure he didn't do anything stupid."

Cas sighed. He felt like the younger Winchester was hiding something from him. But he felt more like he should just trust Sam. He was doing all this for his brother, after all.

"Well, he is being a little...difficult."

"Difficult? Like what?"

Cas sighed again. "He is very quick to anger when I deny him things."

A quiet shuffling was heard, then sam clearing his throat. "Oh well that's an easy fix. The next time he gets pissy, scratch his ears. It'll make him calm."

"But why would he urina- oh. You mean when he gets angry. Right."

"Yeah Cas." Cas could definitely hear Sam chuckling at his misunderstanding. "It should be in the book I gave you."

"Right. Ok. Thank you sam."

"No problem man. I'll be back tomorrow night probably. I have a feeling that dealing with this guy is gonna take a full day."

"Well at least you will get some sleep." Cas was no stranger to Sam's sleeping habits.

"Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow." Cas heard a small click and put down his phone as well. What he didn't hear was Dean sneaking up on him and standing to the right, just out of his periphery. When he turned back, he nearly yelped.

"Was that Sammy?"

"Yes." Cas eyed him warily. Dean had a very intense look in his eye that Cas couldn't place. "He says he will be back by tomorrow night. He has found a man who he think will help." Dean visibly relaxed back into a small scowl.

"Good." and walked back to the couch and plopped down on top of it instead of in front of it. Cas looked after him and felt his brows furrow. Ah, yes. Dean was still upset.

"Dean." Cas could see his ear's move slightly, but nothing more.

"Dean." Cas called again a little louder. This time he saw Dean's head move from leaning on his arm that was slung behind the couch, to tilting lazily to the other side. Cas pursed his lips and walked to the couch, stopping at the armrest and facing Dean. He was about to call him again untill he noticed the TV had changed to 'Dale's Car Shows Across America'. He looked down at Dean's hand and saw the remote clasped in it.

"Sorry, man." He then rolled his head up towards Cas and held up the remote. "You snooze, you lose."

Cas clenched his teeth together. _Be assertive._

Then, he held out his hand. "Give it."

Dean's calm expression dropped into a confused one as he turned from the TV back up at Cas.

"What?" He enunciated the 't' crisply.

"Give it to me." Cas looked down at him sternly, his hand held out flat. Dean's face furrowed further, mouth slightly open to probably ask Cas what the hell he was doing. And then-

"Drop it."

Dean's hand automatically opened, the remote flopping on the couch with a soft thud. He fwipped his head down to look at it and immediately grabbed it again, at the same time sitting straight up. Cas leaned foreword a little, motivated by his small victory. He saw Dean's face in alarm.

"Give me the remote Dean."

Dean, still looking like a scared bird, shook his head slightly. He said, or squeaked rather, out "No."

Cas made sure to look him right in the iris this time, holding his hand out right below Dean's, who was now very still.

"Drop. It."

The remote smacked dully into Cas's hand and he held back a smile as he sat down next to the green eyed man. He flipped the channel back to the documentary and it wasn't until he said "Good boy." did Dean seem to awake form his spell. He felt him relax and sink into the couch, while crossing his arms. Both silently wondered how long it would take Sam to find this cure.

**Hehehehheehehehe**

**Reviews are welcome!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Warning: Feelings happen.**

Sam woke up the next morning feeling oddly at ease. His mind panicked at not beign able to recognize his bed at the bunker before he smelled a light smell of cinnamon. Right, He was on Gabe's couch. Before opening his eyes, he took a body check. Warm. Wrapped in some sort of cashmere feeling thing. He couldn't remember throwing it on. He realized that he couldn't remember even going to bed. Finally opening his eyes, a display of open books, papers, pens, and his laptop was on the short coffee table a foot away. He sat up and found a pillow had been shoved under his head as well. Gabe had probably found the tall man fallen asleep. He remembered calling Cas last night and chuckled. Dean was probably gonna kick his ass once he figured out who was giving him a 'How to Care For Your Dean" crash course. Standing and stretching, Sam admired again at how quaint this little nook was. Sunlight streamed in through the windows to his left. If you looked through them, you would probably even find a garden that led to the street. He couldn't remember if he saw one there last night. It was all so sickeningly sweet. Typical.

His face felt a little prickly and mentally searched his bag for his razor as he gathered the papers. Stacking them on top of his laptop and grabbing his toothbrush and razor from the bag at the end of the couch, he padded through the dining room to the kitchen in search of the bathroom. A sobering thought attacked him again for the 5th time since he left the bunker.

What if this couldn't be fixed? It had been a full 4 days now that Dean has been like this, and this was after they took the 'cure-all' potion. What if this was somehow permanent and Dean was like this forever? But he couldn't accept that.

He opened a few doors in the kitchen and resolved that there would be a bathroom on the second floor. If Dean can't be cured, then he couldn't hunt. Dean was the other half of the team. Yeah sure he could do it alone, but that was one time. But what was Dean gonna do? Just sit at home in the bunker trying as hard as he can to not to knaw on the books? If there was a cure, he had to find it.

Getting to the second floor, he turned left, deciding that the bathroom is probably at the end of the hallway. He remembered back to the ghost in Minnesota that haunted a quaint town like this and remembered how he thought studying all those house plans was going to be useless in the future. Little did he know that they would be useful in avoiding 'accidental-but-most-likely-not' situations of passing by Gabriel's room and seeing more than necessary. I mean, yeah he's got a great ass, but he didn't like to be assaulted at 8 in the morning.

Jesus, it was 8 in the morning. He had actually slept longer than 4 hours, and stayed asleep past 6am. He actually hummed contently as the minty foam plastered the inside of his mouth. After cleaning the sink of any remnants, he shuffled down the hall, admiring at how much Gabe had actually added to this home. Simple framed paintings of random houses filled an otherwise empty wall. A small end table supported a big vase with blue asian-style line art inset its porcelain finish. Sam was wondering if it was cursed when he heard it. A quiet sniffle to his right led his eyes to a big oak door. Gabe's room.

Shit.

He couldn't sneak back down the stairs. The old thing creaked and was right next to the room, so Gabriel was sure to hear him. Maybe it was just a cold? Could he get colds? If he could that would mean he's actually weaker than he was letting on. Goddamnit, why would he lie about his health? Before Sam could make a decision of flight or...comfort, I guess, The door swung open to show a small man with droopy, puffy eyes and red nose looking just as startled as the tall dope in front of him.

"Oh. Heya Sam." He faked a half-smile. Sam's expression moved to concern. Gabe was obviously more messed up than he thought.

"I uh, I was just coming down to wake you up." He turned around, back into the room but leaving the door open which allowed Sam to follow. "And then I thought you should probably sleep in." He grabbed a bright yellow bathrobe with rubber duckies printed on it. Sam drew his eyes form his back to his bed, a disarray of blankets and pillows. Shirts and pants were strewn across the floor and papers littered his small desk in the corner. "Gabe…"

"That way I could take me a nice long bubble bath. Y'know I haven't had one of those in a long-ass time." He continued piddling about the room, sorting papers, not daring to look at sam or acknowledge him speaking.

"I mean its not like there aren't other things that tickle my fancy, Waffles, spicy waitresses named Sasha, Ice Skating, spicier waiters named Ricardo, an extra sour jolly rancher. But I thought, Gabe, You've got a bath why not u-"

"Gabe." Sam had crossed the room and grabbed the smaller man's wrist, stopping him from mindlessly move objects. A paper made its slow decent to the floor as Gabriel stilled.

"I can't Sam." His shoulders moved with labored breathing. "I don't know how to feel anymore. I'm broken." The shaking had increased. "I spent so much time down here, not realizing how good I had it."

"I was burned and it **hurt** and I didn't know why. No one knew why. I'm just a carcass of what I used to be and now there's no home anymore. There's nothing." He was trembling now, and Sam broke the still by turning Gabe and engulfing him in a hug. He responded by crumbling his arms against Sam's back, grabbing his shoulder, and burying his face into his chest. The rubber ducky robe fell to the floor along with a journal he had been clutching. Sobs jostled his body, and Sam rested his head on Gabe's. His hand fell to the shorter man's hair and rubbed his back, in an attempt to comfort him. Sam knew this feeling. He had felt it when his father passed. He felt it at seeing his brother die for the first time. He felt it when Dean had told him to never come back after he found out about the demon blood. So he felt for him. He had wished at the time that there was some outlet that could make it all better, but there wasn't. There was just time. And good people. So he held the ex-angle until the shaking stopped and his shirt had a large wet spot.  
>"You're not a carcass. We can beat this." Gabe finally loosened his grip and moved back, causing Sam to drop his arms. But he left a hand on gabe's upper arm as he looked away and rubbed an eye.<p>

"I'm sorry Sammich. I shouldn't have put all that on you."

"Shut up. You're important to me. And we're gonna find a way to get you back to full health. And even if we don't, being human isn't all that bad." He tried a smile. "And just because you lost your wings doesn't mean you stop being Gabriel: Angel of The Lord. Broken doesn't mean empty." Gabriel looked him in the eye for a long time. An entire novel was in those eyes and this was the first time that Sam could remember actually _looking_ at those eyes. He still could see the power Gabriel had, behind those puffy lids, along with a deep gratitude. They both felt a low buzz in the gaze which lasted for a while.

Sam was the one to break it. "Do you have eggs?"

Gabe showed him confusion. "Yeah." Sam bent down to hand Gabe the robe again.

"Take your bath, I'm gonna make breakfast." Gabriel looked down at his extended hand and opened his mouth to protest but Sam cut him off by taking his hand and shoving the cloth into it, and stepping towards the door.

"No buts." He commanded, then rounded the corner. Gabe huffed out a smile at Sam's kindness. He really did feel for him. He's been wrestling with himself for about oh, as long as he's known gigantor?And this little feel-fest did not help his determination to not get attached.

"Except yours." He almost thought he had imagined hearing the stupid joke yelled back up the stairs at him. Fuck it. He was **so **attached.

**Reviews are super duper helpful so thanks to all who reviewed and keep 'em coming!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Ok I just HAD to re-upload this cuz I was annoyed at the quality/flow of this chapter. So yeah, this is a re-upload! Although, not much changed...yeah.**

Dean woke himself suddenly. He had heard a sort of yelp from someone. Once his eyes came to focus, he realized it was him. Oh yeah. He was dreaming about that squirrel.

He fucking hated squirrels. The dingy bastards.

Rolling over, he noticed his clock screamed out the numbers 4:35 rather then gently showed them on its face. He rubbed his eyes and looked to the other side of the bed and stared at the gun rack on the wall. His black cellphone was face down on the bedside table and had a speck of dust which he smoothed off. He wasn't really tired. In fact he had to pee. He could hold it. He brushed a light streak of hair off of his pillow before snuggling back into its warmth, on his side. He shuffled up the blanket from his shoulders over his head to be wrapped in it. Curling his knees towards his chest, he tucked an arm against his body, tucking his elbow at his bellybutton while leaving an arm ender the pillow. It was so warm. He sighed, content.

Yeah, no he really had to pee.

Groaning and getting up, he flung the blanket back and stepped over a the lump that was his shirt on the floor towards the door. It wasn't until he reached to turn off the light -'We have to save electricity Dean. Y'know. The Environment? Remember? "- that he realized the light was already off. He turned sleepily and actually looked at the room. He thought back to how he could see dirt on his phone and the hair on his pillow. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull.

"Holy shit. I have night-vision."

A small fist pump followed an open-mouthed smile. Haha take that ghoulies. He turned out of his doorway into the hall with a small bounce in his step.

As he unzipped his fly, he thought of how much better he'd be on a hunt. Popping out of corners without the use of a flashlight. He could probably go in a house first, check if its booby trapped in the dark, then wave Sam in.

Oh wait, right. He's on probation. Which was fucking stupid because A) Its not like he can't hold a gun anymore and B)He could probably smell a vamp from miles away. Wait, could he smell a vamp from miles away? Whatever, he probably could. Sammy was just being stubborn. He was supposed to be the smart one, so why the hell would he just think it was too dangerous for Dean to go hunting? He was the oldest goddamnit, so he gets seniority on all decisions.

He zipped up and turned to wash his hands. Light still off because, hell, he wanted everything to do with this nightvision. Grimacing, he scrubbed his hands before putting one up to the scruff of his face -He really needed to shave- and almost punched the mirror. There was someone there. He quickly dropped down and reached under the sink for a gun. How the fuck did this guy get into the bunker?!He spun around to face-

An empty wall.

Whipping back to the mirror, it dawned on him. He was just looking at himself. He looked down at his hand wrapped around the small and cool steel and forced out a singly laugh. It was just his reflection. He reached underneath the sink to lock it back in place and braced his hands on the cool porcelain. Shit. Maybe Sam was right. How the hell was he supposed to hunt when he got the heebie-jeebies by his own damn reflection? He took a deep breath, feeling his throat close at the realization that he would actually be dead weight on a hunt. What if he could never hunt? What if Sammy left him? Because really. Why would he stay when the guy who's supposed to be his right hand man was useless?

A sound escaped into the room that he would probably be extremely embarrassed about later.

He needed to get out of the bathroom, it felt too small. The urge to go back to bed and wrap himself up again was strong, forgetting everything in the warmth. But that comfort seemed so unappealing, even in the cold night. It would just be him. Alone. With night-vision. Another whine pealed into the hall ad she scrambled through the door.

* * *

><p>Castiel was interrupted from a long-needed sleep when he opened the door to find a very sad and very shirtless Dean. He was sitting there with a tight expression. The dim light from th bedside lamp cast a shadow across his face which made it seem more urgent. The ex-angel wiped sleep from his eyes as he stepped towards the bed and opened the door wider to let him in. Obviously, He had come to talk.<p>

"Yes, Dean?". He tried hard to push thoughts of hugging his partially naked body out of his mind and think objectively. It would probably be about how they've been acting towards each other for the past few days A shuffling from behind told him that Dean had come in. He reached up to turn off the fan that he had turned on hours before. The room had now become chilly.

He turned back to the bed "Are y-"

Dean was lying on his bed with his chest facing down and his head turned away from Cas, occupying the farthest side of the bed.

Castiel needed a minute to compose himself.

He readied his voice to tell Dean that he needed to go to his own room when he heard him speak.

"I can't be alone."

Castiel swallowsed a lump in his throat that was probably because of his guilt. He could guess this was because Dean was left behind by his brother. Cas could sympathize. It had been a bad few days for him as well. He stood there for a second, glancing at the open spot on his bed, and back at Dean;s form, which somehow had managed to kick the covered form under him to the other side, and weighed his options. He glanced at the clock, and decided that he was too tired, and too sympathetic to kick him out. So, pushing down the thought lurking in the back of his mind, Cas turned off the bedside lamp, climbed up the other side of the bed at Dean's back and pulled up the covers over his big T-shirt, effectively covering both of them without disrupting Dean's position.

He laid there in the dark with his hands folded over his chest, staring at the ceilign as if he could see the question searign into the white paint. What now? Does he go to sleep and pretend like he isn't struggling with the fact that a very shirtless dean was currently sharing a bed with him? He listened to the breathing of the man next to him, and it sounded slightly erratic. He felt the urge to reach out and comfort him. Suddenly, Sam's words echoed in his head.

His cautious hand trembled a bit as he rested it in Dean's hair. Immediately, the man tensed and Castiel found himself breaking into a slight sweat. Cas slowly moved it back and forth, wondering if it was wrong to do this. If it was an intrusion. But for all of his worry and tremble, he mechanically kept patting his head. And finally, Dean moved. Castiel prepared himself for the dejection and loss of contact, but was almost thrown back by the full-fledged warmth that was Dean plastered to his side.

Dean curled into him, actually snuggling to his chest and Castiel was very unsure of what to do. He was tempted to push the man away, in a moment of panic, but knew that would probably make the situation worse. He was terrified to speak, to move even, but he brought his hand up to his hair again and resumed the movement, practically smelling the scrunched face Dean was making in the dark, complete with tightly closed eyes. His breathing slowed.

After an eternity, only when his nerves were to tired to continuously jump, did he whisper at the ceiling,

"Good Boy."

He thought he imagined a small smile nudging through his tshirt from his friend's face, along with a content sigh.

**Yes I know I know its a little bit out of order in terms of chapter placement and time-wise but Im too lazy to reorder. But I got a plan.**

**As always, Reviews are welcome!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Bruh. This feedback. I'm loving it. We're at 5k+ views! *gross sobbing***

Something smelled really good.

He remembered thinking that as he was lulled awake. Kind of reminded him of a laundry detergent. He made a small not to start a business of making such laundry detergent. Sell it by the boatload. But first he had to figure out where it was coming from and how to keep it. But that required energy.

Dean pushed further into the comfort that he was surrounded in, refusing to move.

The blanket wrapped around shifted off.

He made a huffing noise and again tried to get comfy, which earned another movement form the pillow underneath him.

"Stop moving." He grumbled at it, too lazy to actually move the object.

"Stop tickling me." The pillow replied.

Dean snapped his eyes open. Holy shit, can eh talk to inanimate objects? That's when he noticed that his head was currently on Castiel's chest, just under his chin and also that he was currently shirtless, while castiel was clothed.

The events of last night flooded to his mind and his face grew looked up at Castiel and thanked God that his eyes were closed. He really did not want a talk about this. Now, just to get out silently. I mean, its not like he hasn't had to sneak out before. Still, it had been a while since he felt the need to. Shit it had been a while since he even had the opportunity to, he realized.

Focusing on going slow, Dean lifted his arm from Castiel's shoulder.

The phone rang down the hall and he cursed as Castiel stirred. The door was left open so the offending sound echoed into the room. Thinking quickly, he got up fully. Cas was a light sleeper so he would wake up anyway. He just felt the urge to get out of there.

As he was speed walkign to the door, he heard Cas mumble a question.

"Th-the phone! I'm- the phone is ringing!" He flung back while making his escape.

Breathing out a sigh, Dean allowed himself to walk slower, praying that cas would just roll back over. Reaching the phone, he put it up to his ear.

...

"Johnny's pool supplies how can I help you?"

"65 noodles, no sauce." Sam rumbled the reply at his brother while standing in Gabriel's living room, gathering his things.

"Sammy, if your not gonna say the whole thing whats the point of it at all?" Dean snapped back over the line.

"Woah, whats got your panties in a twist?" Sam stopped rolling his flannel blue shirt and brought his full attention to his phone.

A sigh, then "Nothing. Just a little cabin fever that's all." Dean half-mumbled the excuse.

Sam knew Dean was doing the whole 'I'm fine, even though I'm not fine' thing that he likes to do which they both knew was not ok but they both also knew that there would probably never be an 'ok' to live up to. So, he didn't comment.

"Yeah. Well I found a lead. I'm gonna go check it out today. I'll text when I get more details."

"Good. Good." Came a gruff response. Sam decided to poke the bear a little.

"How's Cas doin'?"

"Cas? Oh yeah, uh, Cas he-he's doing fine. Just fine! Better than fine actually! He uh,he's getting' along pretty well."

Oh. So it was about Cas.

Sam took a second to congratulate himself.

"Good, good." He did his best to mimic Dean while holding in a laugh. Dean must've heard it because there was a pause before he spoke.

"Ok well, I'm gonna go get food. Yeah. Call if anything happens."

Dean hung up before Sam could respond and he allowed himself a laugh instead.

"Whats up?"

Gabriel's head popped out from the kitchen where he was cleaning up the breakfast they just had.

"I may or may not have just forced my brother to confront his feelings."

Gabe chuckled and went back into the kitchen and Sam felt a little tug in the back of his head like he forgot something. He ignored it and slung the bag over his shoulder, opening the front door to walk outside. It was sunny. Sam wondered if it ever rained.

He was lifting up the trunk to his car when the woman walking the dog form last night approached him.

"Hii." She sounded like she watched soap operas on the weekends. Sam inwardly cringed, really not wanting to make small talk.

"Uh, Hi." She smiled brightley at him and looked ta the bag in the trunk of the car. Sam slowly put his hand on the blad ein his back pocket.

"Oh sorry, I'm Cheryl, George's neighbor." George? Oh. Gabe would choose the simple-est apple-pie name he could when choosing an alias. Sam shook her outstretched hand firmly.

"Well, I just wanted to stop by and say hey. George mentioned that he had a special someone that he's known for a long time would be stopping by."

Sam squinted a little.

"Yeah, we, uh, we've known each other for a while now."

She continued like he never spoke, seemingly bursting with words.

"You know, some think that the people here are so stingy when it comes to…."she looked around and leaned in slightly ''overnight guests. Especially in your situation."

Sam's face dropped and he really hoped she meant that he was his fugitive brother.

"But I just wanted you to know that we accept all kinds of lifestyles here and you are more than welcome in our little nook, and feel free to stop by!"

Sam felt his face get hot. She thought that he was in a long term relationship with Gabriel.

He wanted to actually sink into the ground and never come up.

"Well, uh, thank you," He sputtered out, "But-"

Gabriel appeared out of nowhere again, beside Sam. With a hand on his back. Sam could pointedly feel it through his heavy jacket and he felt that tug again.

"But, we're in a hurry Cheryl. Sorry." He flashed a warm smile at her while gently signaling her away.

Her face immediately showed concern you would to a puppy in the rain.

"Oh, no, Don't let me keep you! I have to get back to a movie I paused to walk this little one anyway." Lo and behold a tiny yorkie scuttled from behind her as if summoned. A red line led from its neck to her hand.

"Well, you boys have a nice day!" She said brightly and bounced off down the sidewalk.

Sam turned to Gabriel as soon as she was out of earshot.

"Really?"

Gabe played the innocent card, putting a hand on his chest. "What? I was being neighborly."

Sam just looked at him.

"Ohhh, you mean about the whole 'we're a couple now' thing?" He looked down at the ground. "Well, I had to tell them something to get them to not ask questions." He kicked the dirt on the ground. "y'know, nosy-neighbor syndrome and whatnot." Finally making eye contact with Sam, eh sighed exasperatingly.

"Ok, calm your eyebrows Sammich, I wasn't planning on anyone seeing you alright? Sheesh. I 'm not used to making up elaborate lies on the fly."

Sam's face softened at that admission. Gabriel now has real life human-like obstacles that he can't mojo his way out of. Like nosy neighbors that he couldn't just snap his fingers into believing anything he said or doing anything he wanted.

Sam sighed this time.

"Ok fine. But when I leave, tell them we broke up or something." He shut the trunk and walked around Gabriel to the passenger side as Gabe said a 'thank you' to his back. Somehow, Sam didn't think that Gabriel would tell the neighbors anything when Sam left.

And oddly, that didn't really bother him.

**Sidenote: This a lot more chapters than I thought it would be, so I guess this train don't stop for SHIT.**

**Reviews are always welcome! :D**


	12. Chapter 12

**I've finally planned this storyline out! And if I miss any spelling stuff fell free to tell me.**

Sam felt good driving on the road again. His favorite song was blasting at a level that was higher than normal. Part of the reason why being that Gabe kept asking if they could play Asia. Ha ha.

The rumble of the car vibrated his body as if his nerves wouldn't do that already. He really wanted to trust Gabe, but something was holding him back. And that nagging tug from before was still there, like he forgot something. He went over the thing sin the trunk, mentally feeling his pockets for the knives and gun strapped to this hip. He glanced at Gabe in the front seat next to him, currently flipping through a magazine he found in the back.

"I don't get it. " Sam flicked his gaze back at the road immediately when the shorter man spoke. Then immediately felt stupid for acting like he was guilty of something.

Gabriel continued, "All of these guys talk about these bikes getting- " He paused to squint at the paper, in order to quote the article. " 'All the bitches'," He put on a voice that Sam imagined he would use to imitate Balthazar or Dean.

"And on the very next page talk about how they don't want a girl who 'sleeps around.' Makes no fucking sense."

Sam smiled. It was weird, yet funny, to see Gabriel mad. Mostly because he usually gets mad at his brothers. Sam has seen him furious . It was not funny.

He glanced at Gabe's face, it was scrunched in disgust. "I'm sorry that some humans are douchebags. And that those douchebags make magazines." He tried to keep the amusement out of his voice.

"Oh Sam. Always one to apologize e for others, aren't ya?" He sighed and shut the magazine. "You could say that you always are..the bigger man." The smirk lazily splayed on his face just to make sure Sam would get his double entendre.

Sam rolled his eyes to let him know that yes he did ,infact, get it.

"Take the next left." Gabriel returned to the magazine while giving sam the next direction. The next left was a dirt road. He looked over at Gabe to check if he was as tense as Sam was. Seeing him relaxed made Sam feel safer. Half a mile down led to some sort of clearing where Gabriel told Sam to park in.

"Up for a hike my dear Samsquach?" Ignoring the name, Sam replied honestly as he rounded the car from the trunk, holding a shotgun. "Not really."

"Good, because we're here!" Gabriel spread his arms and turned slowly. Sam pursed his lips at the dumb joke, but refrained from saying 'you've lost you're touch' for fear of bringing up the elephant again.

"..ok what now?" Sam closed the trunk and walked towards the golden-hair man, trying to push away the creeping feeling that it was a mistake to trust Gabriel this much.

"Well, ok, don't be mad," Gabriel rubbed the back of his neck, "But I kinda already had her tracking us. So its only a matter of time."

Sam took a step back. Gabriel told this person, who Sam didn't even know, about their location, without telling him?!

"Who is 'she'? What is going on?" That feeling was getting stronger and he gripped the keys in his hand, ready to make a run for it if necessary.

"You said you wouldn't get mad!" Puppy eyes popped on his face.

"Gabriel.." Sam used the voice Dean said made him sound like a suburban house-wife.

"Look, here she is now." Gabriel pointed behind Sam, and he whipped around. Later Sam would smack himself for turning his back on Gabriel so easily in such 'trusting' times. In the tree line, a figure emerged.

She had brown skin and hair, with a sort of green romper on. Walking casually closer, Sam saw a large spear in hand with a crossbow on her back. She stopped about 10 feet away from them and Sam saw that she was, in fact, gorgeous. Also, familiar.

"Gabriel." She word fell out cold, and Sam felt wrong at how his name sounded then.

"Hello, Artemis."

Sam turned back to Gabriel in disbelief, facing away from their guest, another thing he would hit himself for. "um. What?"

"Hello Sam Winchester. It's been a long time. Almost a year now, right?" She spoke to Sam then, which caused him to turn back. Artemis regarded him with a cautious stare, almost testing if he remembered her. (A/N: See episode 8x16) Sam huffed out a laugh in disbelief.

"Yeah. Um. You look...different." Yeah he knew how dumb that sounded. She smiled lightly at him.

"Yes, I've chosen another form since we last met. That much activity cause my face to be recognizable." She twirled the silver spear in her right hand but kept her stance strong.

Gabriel clapped his hands. "Well! Now that you two have caught up, we need a favor." He stepped foreword next to Sam, who had long since released his tight grip on the blade in his back pocket, knowing that it was useless at this point.

"We need you to cure this guy's, " He clapped a hand to Sam's upper back.(well, middle back, really, but that's as upper back Gabriel can reach) "Older brother from a bit of a beastie-related curse."

Artemis raised her head, showing little to no expression. "In return?" Sam turned to Gabriel, letting him take the lead on this one. Sam had experience with gods and deities, but they usually were more violent rather than diplomatic situations.

Gabriel's eyes grew sharp and golden, and Sam recognized this look at one he would get when he felt he had the upper hand.

"I will tell you where Orion is buried."

Artemis's eyes opened a fraction to show her surprise and interest. Sam quickly scrolled through his knowledge of the Gods. In lore, Orion was the only other that Artemis ever loved. Her brother Apollo tricked her into shooting him and she sent him to the stars, making the Orion constellation. So why would she not know where his body is? Didn't she bury him- or like, raised him to the heavens or whatever- herself?

"Tick tok Arty." Gabriel put the pressure on and Sam could tell that he was in his element. Sam could also tell that he was basically backup for this little mission.

"Fine. I accept." She stated calmly, which made Sam more curious about the seriousness of Gabriel's offer. She turned to Sam. "What is his condition?"

Sam took a deep breath, feeling somewhat intimidated, and told her about Dean.

**I promise actual Sabriel is coming hand to chuck.**

**Reviews are always welcome!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Ok you guys wanted more Doggy-Dean so you got it!**

**I was too excited to post this chapter so there's probably a shit ton of typos, so bear with me. **

Cas didn't bother looking for Dean until a few hours after lunch. This morning was no doubt a tense one. He caught himself a few times throughout the day remembering the comforting and heavy warmth on his chest. He had been awake long before him, so he had time to assess the situation, and wasn't surprised when Dean tried to scramble away. He allowed the man to try and silently slip out of the bunker after hanging up his phone conversation with Sam, and drive off.

Castiel heard the door open and close again around lunch, letting him know that Dean was back and very pointedly ignoring him.

But why?

Was Dean that emotionally prudent that he would act like his moment of comfort never happened? Or worse, did Dean know of Castiel's feelings? He knew overthinking it would get him nowhere. Castiel needed to talk to him.

So, he used the excuse of trying to find a book by Ernest Hemingway, to glance in and out of rooms around the bunker. He was about to give up, when he hard a sharp scuff on the concrete in the 'holding room' behind the wall of files in the storage closet.  
>Without pausing to think about it, he screeched the doors open and found a red and fading devil's trap, rusty chai in the center and no Dean. Confused, he stepped into the room, almost thinking he had been mistaken, but another shuffle to his left jolted him.<p>

Dean sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, beer case thrown to the ground and a bottle of Jack Daniels in his right hand, resting on the concrete. Head bowed, the ceilign light cast a shadow on his face as well as rumpled flannel and shirt. A few stray files were strewn in his lap.

"Helloooo Cass." The words came out in a lazy drizzle as Dean lifted his head in a slow and wide smile on his face.

"I was looking for a book." Was blurted into the room. Cas mentally kicked himself for sounding so dumb. He didn't understand why he felt so fumbled to talk to Dean. His chest felt tight.

"I'll help you!" Dean slurred out before standing, or trying to stand. The bottle beside him clinked as he flumped back down on the concrete, making a face as he did.

"Ow."

Castiel felt a sudden urgency to get Dean to stay here. "Nonono! That's ok. I'll find it on my own." He turned to leave and made it a step or so through the steel shelves before he again heard Dean grunt and a sharp scrape against concrete.

"Cas." It was gravelly grunt.

Castiel turned back to see Dean bracing himself against the wall, almost in a wall sit. Dean raised his eyes to Castiel's and pushed off the wall. "Dean, you shouldn't. You're not-"

"I'm gonna help you look." Dean said it much clearer than his previous sentences, obviously trying to focus his speech pattern. He was standing now, infront of Cas, breaking the personal space barrier and Castiel could see all of his eyebrow hairs scrunch together in mild irritation. Castiel glanced down at his feet. Dean would probably just stumble around the bunker and hurt himself. Not to mention the fact that there was no book.

"Fine, Dean. You can help. I haven't checked your room yet." Castiel lied. Dean tipped his head to one side. Castiel turned out the room and headed for the door. He was about to check behind him for Dean when said Dean rammed into his shoulder with his whole body. Luckly, Castiel caught himself from falling by stabilizing himself with the wall of the small hallway. He looked at Dean, who bounced backwards an inch like a small child with a shocked and apologetic facial expression to match.

"Sorry."

Castiel just nodded and added a smile to reassure Dean that he was, in fact, ok. Turning back to walk forward, he was jolted again by a round object laid between his shoulder blades. Through his cotton tshirt, he felt it move against his muscles.  
>"Dean wh-"<br>"I'm sorry."  
>It was then that castiel realized that he was feeling the texture of Dean's hear on his shirt and that the round object was his head. He was very confused.<br>"Dean, I'm fine.I'm not hurt." He craned his neck to make sure Dean heard him. His bedroom was right there. He needed to sleep his inebriation off.

"No. I'm sorry."  
>Castiel heard from his back. It felt like dean now had his cheek resting on Castiel's upper back instead of the top of his head.<br>"I'm an asshole. A useless asshole." was mumbled into the hall.

Castiel's eyes widened at this admission and he turned to Dean, causing his head to slide off of his back. Dean had his head lolled to the side, with shoulders sagged."What are you talking about?" Castiel wanted to make sure that he did not sound angry with his statement.

Dean refused to look at Castiel, instead finding a spot about 10 feet away on the floor to be much more interesting.

"Dean."

His head reluctantly moved to face Cas, but his chest was much more visually interesting than his face.

"Dean. Winchester." Castiel couldn't stop himself from getting stern. What was going on with Dean? Why was he leaking out emotion only to clam up again? Dean's eyes finally snapped to Castiel's and Cas could visibly see a slight change in expression before he looked away again. Castiel waited.

"I'm not a hunter anymore." Dean spoke slowly and quietly to focus on his speech, his eyes still burning a hole in Castiel's shirt. "I can't hunt. I'm...I woke up and...I was fine then I went out and..I'm colorblind..and there was another fucking squirrel and..."  
>Castiel immediately felt his nerves go cold. How could he be so inept. The curse was slowly getting worse so of course Dean would be emotionally affected. Dean kept chewing his lip as he spoke and Cas needed to comfort him.<br>So, he took a chance and did the thing that Winchesters rarely do. He wrapped his arms around Dean and placed his head on his shoulder carefully.

Cas felt arms slide around his back almost instantly.

Okay. This was good. Reciprocation of the hug was good. But also alarming. Dean was still mumbling words but they were muffled. Castiel felt the bone of Dean's nose tucked into his shoulder. He focused on speaking as he resisted a small tug to sink into the comfort of having the solid warmth of Dean radiating through him.

"You are not useless. You are strong. I was not told to raise you from Hell itself for nothing. You have had worse battles than this, and you will certainly not be broken by it. So you should stop seeing yourself as anything other than a warrior."  
>The arms tightened and Castiel felt as if he were watching himself go through the motions rather than actually doing them. He saw himself rub circles into Dean's back as he raised his head a little from Castiel's shoulder. He watched as he stepped away from Dean after a long amount of time (probably the longest hug in winchester history) and looked at Dean's face. He watched himself put a hand on that face and look into those sad and down turned too-green eyes and breath out a 'Good Boy'. Dean released his arms from Castiel and rested one hand on his shoulder.<p>

And then Dean kissed him. Repeatedly. As in more than a couple times.

It took about 4 kisses in for Castiel to snap out of it. He realized what was happening and his eyes nearly bulged out of his skull. Dean pecked him all around his face and cheeks , trailing some unknown constellation over the blushing ex angel, almost in an aggressive fashion. It got to the point where Castiel stumbled back because Dean was practically leaning on him to get close. He floundered the press back on the wall adjacent to the two and gripped Dean's bicep in order to ground himself somehow. Dean continued his mission to cover Cas's entire face with saliva. Castiel smelled the slight acid of alcohol from the wet kisses he left around , an on (he blushed harder), his mouth. It was the only reminder that this was not Dean's regular behavior. He moved under his mouth and towards his felt the burn of his face increase and tingle with every moment of contact.

"D-Dean!" If this continued, Castiel was probably going to explode.

Dean stopped and Cas averted his sight from the other's slightly glazed eyes. He huffed out a breath and paused. Both of them were panting.

"We n-need- I need to-" Oh god if only he could stop blushing.

Castiel noticed that his own hands were now plastered against the wall, in an effort to sink into it. He racked his brain of how he could escape, not wanting to lose his mind and do something he might regret later. He felt Dean's Head plop foreword on his shoulder on the side of Cas's exposed neck, now the only thing that was in contact between them, and braced his hand to one side of Cas.

"Thank you Cas." Was all he heard from the head, slightly slurred. Dean then leaned off of him, turned, and sauntered down the hall to turn into his bedroom. With a click of the door shut, he left Castiel alone still red and flustered.

Breathing out a loud sight, he tried to calm his heart rate. That was….alarming. Looking down at the slight bulge in his pants, he realized that keeping his feeling from Dean was going to be much harder than he thought.

**Get it? Cuz dogs lick(aka kiss) people's faces to express affection?**

**Reviews are welcome!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, they really help me out! And for all you sabriel lovers, I guess ****Christmas**** came early..**

They got back to Gabe's little home around seven, stopping to pick up some food from the diner down the street from the clearing. Sam texted Dean an hour ago that they found something promising and had yet to get a response. He decided to wait an hour or so before calling him.

He gripped the brown grease-stained bag in one hand while clutching a crumpled piece of paper with a list of supernatural ingredients in the other. Gabriel grabbed a duffle bag holding about half of the ingredients and unlocked the door to let them in to the cozy space. Sam hadn't realized that it had gotten colder until he stepped into the inviting warmth.

Earlier, he had let Gabriel settle back in the car after making a run to an antique store in order to get their first item before asking him about Artemis. How did he know her? Wait, no. Why did they need to contact her of all people? Couldn't he have just, oh I don't know, told Sam that they we're meeting Artemis instead of making it a surprise? How can he be sure they could trust her?

Gabriel sighed and looked at him. "I'm sorry Sammich. I should have told you who we we're meeting but I just couldn't resist making you squirm like that." Sam's face was stone, which just made Gabe's eyes twinkle brighter.

"I know Artemis from way back when she first fell for Orion. Pretty much helped those two get together, before her bro got all douchey. Since Dean-o has a bit of a beastie problem, Artemis was the first one that came to mind." Ah right, she's the Goddess of the Hunt. She would have dealt with animals.

"As a far as trusting her, well, you know as well as I do that in this business, you can't really worry about how much you trust a source on how to break a curse. Just gotta go for it."

That was 2 hours ago, and 3 more store runs later he did not feel any better about it. Plus that little tug in the back of his head was getting really annoying. But he trusted Gabriel and that would have to do for now.

He placed the list on the kitchen island counter and read it as he took off his jacket. Werewolf fur, check. Sage, check. Fossilized olive branch, check. Arrow head dipped in the blood of a pilgrim, check. They still needed a blade forged in purgatory, which Dean currently had hanging on the knife rack in his room(one of the many things that remained from his time there), and a 'touch from a divine soul'. Sam chewed his lip and looked up to see Gbariel setting the duffel bag on the table, turning on the thermostat to bring the heat down a little. He moved across the kitchen to the greasy bag and reached in to pull out their burgers, fries, drinks and napkins.

Sam found himself smiling again before looking back down at the paper, but Gabriel caught him.

"What?"

Sam glanced back up and Gabriel had paused, a hand hovering with a burger. "Nothing its just….You're so domestic. Its...refreshing." Gabriel made a face that looked like he ate something sour, which just added to Sam's amusement because nothing is too sour for Gabriel.

"I CAN be a good host Samuel. Now do you want ketchup?" He plopped down the burger and chucked some packets of ketchup near it.

Sam shook his head and glanced down at the list again, deciding on how to approach the subject.

"So Gabriel." Sam started.

"Yes darlin'?"Gabe put on a southern drawl as he took a seat across from Sam at the skinny counter.

"We need two more things, one we have at the bunker and the other I need your help to get." Sam studied him carefully, seeing if he would get the meaning before he said it. He hated asking for it since it was already a touchy subject.

Gabriel seemed to catch on, of course, since he already read the list about 13 times, same as Sam. "You need a touch from a holy soul." He stopped puttering about the fixings in front of him and leaned back in the chair a little, looking at the surface of the oak kitchen island. Sam remembered him saying that it was imported from Russia or something ridiculous like that last night.

Gabriel pushed a loose strand back before leaning foreward on his clasped hands and looking up at Sam, who was still standing.

"I can't do it."

Sam sighed, he hated to do this. "You're right Gabe I'm sorry I shouldn't have asked you b-"

"No, Sam. I mean I can't." Gabrie stopped his rambling and bringing Sam's gaze back to his face. "I'm out of juice. I've used it all."

Sam looked at him, confused at his meaning. What was he getting at? Sam saw him appear out of nowhere at the funeral home. Was that smoke and mirrors?

"What do you mean?" Sam leaned forward and rested his hand on a bar stool's back.

Now it was Gabriel's turn. He leaned back again on the chair but still stared at the countertop. "Well. I only had a little left after the fall. I mostly used it sporadically, to get me comfortable." Sam waited, still not seeing the significance. I mean he knew that he wasn't at full power, so its not a complete surprise that he was at 0%. So why make a big thing out of it?

"And as you know, Grace can be used to heal. So...I..healed someone with the last of it."

He met Sam's eyes and Sam got the feeling that he was missing something big. Gabriel had an intense softness to his gaze. Sam suddenly knew what he was going to say.

"I used the last of my Grace to heal you, Sam."

A number of things happened in the span of 10 seconds. One, Sam realized that in that moment, Gabe had called him sam, which was a very rare thing. And two, the tugging feeling just locked into place. Sam realized what he had forgotten, what he had left behind last night.

He didn't have any nightmares.

"Gabe…" Same shoved the word through his lungs. He opened his mouth and found he was struggling to form a good question to ask. "Why, wh- How? Just- What?" He now had both hands braced on the counter. Gabriel kept his face calm and serious, very alien-like for him.

"I cleansed you of your past Sammich. The demon blood, the nightmares, all of it."

Sam finally closed his jaw. Gabriel was wrecked, just **wrecked** when he fell and was ridden of half of his grace. So for him to just, willingly give up the little that he had left, astounded him. He quickly realized that this was probably the cause of his breakdown early this morning. He was fully human now. He willingly made himself human to heal Sam.

"Why?" The room had been silent for a good while before Sam cut through it with his question. Gabriel looked back at him simply and in speculation, as if viewing a lovely flower. As if viewing something he held a place for.

"Because you are good Sam, the world needs more of you. And I couldn't stand to see you suffer." He paused, setting his nerves. Sam waited, in awe of this confession. Coming from someone who was, and still is, divine. Made to do God's work, so its not as if he's spouting bullshit. He's a real actual angel telling Sam that he was a good person. The tug was replaced by agitated pushing.

"And I didn't want you to try to persuade me that you aren't worth it, Because to me...you are." Gabriel left the sentence hanging in the space between them. Sam, still with two hands on the countertop and Gabriel leaned back on his stool with a straight-lined and relaxed mouth. Sam wasn't quite sure how to react. I mean he was just given an ultimate sacrifice from none other than Gabriel, angel of the lord. Gabriel willingly opened up to him about his troubles, as one who knew the meaning of true pain and joy, and not to mention that he just allowed a Winchester into his house, which was supposedly a secret to all others.

It wasn't until Sam looked back at Gabriel that he realized what he wanted to do.

Sam walked around the counter to Gabriel's right side, his head following the other's movements, grabbed either side of Gabriel's face and met their lips firmly together.

***rag time piano tremble***

**Reviews are always welcome!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hope everyone's holidays are going well!**

**Lots of feelings and reflections addressed in this chapter. Trigger Warning: Homophobia, although not direct.**

Cas decided to go to bed early, even though that didn't actually make him go to sleep early. Well, atleast, early for him. He laid down with his back to his bedroom door, occasionally switching sides as the night drew on. But now, he faced the blank wall that held a clock which displayed that it was almost 1am. A storm had showed itself in the few hours between him laying down and now, which mirrored his thoughts.

He pressed his lips firmly together. He should stop dwelling on it.. But he can't stop dwelling on it. The ghost of deans lips dotting his face burned into his memory. His face felt hot again and he pulled the covers up just over his nose, as if to hide it from the world. He scowled at the wall. Why must his emotions so easily bubble up? This was not the time to be losing control of them. Especially when Dean is so vulnerable. Right now, he was to be the one to protect him, and yet with a simple gesture, Castiel was undone. Ridiculous. Its not even like Dean did it intentionally. After their little event, he had looked in the book to see if it could provide answers.

_Dogs will often lick their owner's face if they know a reward will come from it or if it will stop them from being sad. Its also a common reaction of hunger or stress._

He read it about three times before he could come to any conclusion. He was again trying to decipher the sentences in the night of his room when he heard a noise at his door. It was a mix between a knock and a swipe at the solid entryway.

"Come in." He said tentatively. It had been silent for so long that his half-whisper felt like a yell. Castiel raised himself to his elbows while turning to face the door on the other side of the room. A round shape shoved itself through the doorway, barley illuminated by the small lamp on Cas's desk, currently providing false UV rays for a small cactus.("It'll do you good to have a hobby don't pay attention to what Dean says about it. He doesn't like any plant that doesn't cure something or come on a burger.") Castiel swallowed thickly.

"Yes? What is it?"

Dean stood at the door for a second before swinging it open fully, and then closing it, to swiftly close the space between him and the edge of Castiel's bed. Cas saw a block oblong shape gripped in his hand that was pushed out towards him. He glanced up at Dean's face, hoping for an answer, but Dean's stare was intense and was offering none. Cas again looked at the outstretched hand and sat up more to reach the object. He only recognized what it was when he brought it closer.

"My slippers?" Again he glanced up at Dean.

"You left them so I thought I should bring them to you." Came a terse reply. Castiel felt no closer to understanding what was happening.

"Oh, uh..thank you Dean." He rolled towards the side of the bed and placed them on the floor. When he rolled back up to his position before, he found Dean in the exact same spot, as if scared to move. Feeling suddenly uncomfortable and awkward in his slightly reclined position, Cas sat up fully, looking at Dean. The shadows cut across his face harshly. Cas found the look too crude for such features.

A minute passed before Dean said anything.

"Cas, I'm...sorry. About before." He bowed his head a little, losing eye-contact.

"Dean it-"

"No it's not ok." Dena cut him off. "I shouldn't have...I was drunk but- that doesn't excuse anything. And..I'm sorry." Cas could tell in the dim lighting that Dean's fist were balled at his side, alternatingly clenching and unclenching. The apology gave Castiel a slight sense of relief. Dean hadn't meant to do it, it was a moment of weakness forma combination of the curse and being drunk. There was a comfort in finally being able to stop obsessing over it and knowing what it mean. And also a sadness.

Still leaning back on one hand, Cas rubbed the other through his hair and face before reaching forward and catching one of Dean's hands. Dean refused to look at Castiel still, choosing to look further towards the door behind him at the surprising contact.

"Thank You Dean."

After all, a Winchester apology is almost as rare as the hugs. So it warranted a thank you. Dean allowed himself to drag his gaze back to cas and show a ghost of a smile before nodding. Castiel let go of Dean's hand and smiled too.

A loud crash and rumble shook the building causing Dean to jump violently, his face lost in shadow as he dipped it down. It was then he noticed the unkept hair on Dean's head. The storm had woken him? Had he even gone to sleep? Another low rumble caused another jump. Cas felt unsure of what to do. This version of Dean was still just that, a version. He wasn't sure if his actions now would have repercussions later. Dean asked the question that wa s burning on his tongue for him.

"Can I stay here? This storm, man...its a sonovabitch." Dean flashed a grin to make the sentence sound more lofty than what Cas knew it to be. As if he had asked if borrow a pen.

In response, Castiel scooched over to one side, flipping up the covers as if on impulse. He wasn't that phased by the request. They had already shared a bed together, so it didn't mind Cas that they should continue the arrangement as often as Dean needed it. He flashed a smile at Dean as the solid man plopped down beside him, which went unnoticed because Dean was focused on pulling the covers up and flipping to face the door, away from Cas.

Cas clenched his jaw, a little hurt by the rejection of contact. But chastised himself as he mirrored Dean's actions to face the clock again. Dean just apologized for acting inappropriately so it would be awkward for a little bit.

On numerous occasions, Dean has gotten curt with Sam when jabs we're made about his sexuality. And even though Castiel technically did not have a gender, he went by masculine pronouns, which was enough for Dean to feel some sort of conflict when showing affection. Regardless of whether it was under an influence or not. In this regard, Castiel felt sorry for him. He has never been ashamed to act 'girly' or appreciate the beauty of another being. To be that restricted by oneself must feel like living in a cage. But now, the curse had caused Dean's cage to have gaping holes here and there. And every time he stuck a limb through a hole, he snatched it back in. So, he quietly shifted under the covers to bring a hand up under his own head and gave Dean as much space as he required between them.

That is, he would have if there wasn't a second strike of thunder that could be heard through the walls and ceiling that caused an arm to be flung around his middle from behind. Castiel froze, half out of fear he would ruin the contact. A high pitched noise whimpered into the room. Breathing out, Castiel recognized it as Dean. He warred with himself and decided to let his instincts do the work. He squirmed around to face Dean and wrapped him in a secure hug, resting one hand on Dean's hair, tucking his head under his chin and slowly stroking his hair. Dean reciprocated by keeping his arm around Castiel's middle and dipping his head against his chest. Castiel reveled in the solid heat his counterpart was giving off, enjoying the feel of another body pressed against him. This was very much crossing a line. Last time they shared a bed, Dean had been in some sort of sleepy stupor and Cas had been too tired to care and/or realize what was happening. But now, both of them we're consciously making the decision to hold onto each other, A physical acknowledgement of the situation.

As soon as Castiel caught a rhythm with his hand, Dean's breathing went from panicked to slow and deliberate. Cas took the opportunity to breath in Dean's scent. It invigorated him as well as calmed him. The old Dean would probably shove him off and that he didn't want to dwell in the would-be aftermath of that. But right now he was holding this Dean. And it would be ok. They would be ok.

"Its ok Dean." He voiced his thoughts, allowing the double meaning to belong to him alone." The storm will be over once you wake." The breaths slowed to quiet puffs, not yet deep enough to be sleep-like. He felt the warmth on his chest through his shirt. "Good Boy." He said it knowing for sure that Dean would hear. Not in a whisper in the dark, almost ashamed of giving him praise. He felt braver in that respect.

Castiel fell asleep to Dan's scent and a low rumble in the distance.

**Reviews are welcome! **

**This chapter was influenced by a few of you guys' PMs and Reviews so keep em coming! You guys are giving me so many awesome ideas! And do not be ****afraid**** to spell check me. My spelling is horrid.**

**Happy Holidays!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Hey guys!**

**So I thought I would give you all a belated Christmas present and post this just before New Years so you guys have something to read whilst avoiding family as various New Years parties. *coughIdothisallthetimecough***

**So enjoy!**

Pounding on the bunker door was barley heard by Sam because of the storm. And that was saying something since he was huddled against it in an attempt to shield himself and the duffle bag he was carrying against the hard rain. It had been hell driving back from Gabe's. Whether that had been because of the storm or what happened back there, he couldn't know. Probably a mixture of both. The storm had started sometime before he left and hadn't budged and inch in the few hours between then and now. I mean, it was past raining cats and dogs. More like elephants and hippos, He had even heard a flash flood warning in the area. He pounded the door again, suddenly hating his insistence that Castiel take his key before he left.

It swung open and he plunged inside, soaking wet to be greeted by a sleepy Castiel."Hey, Cas." He huffed out the greeting as he passed down the metal stairs to their man entry-room. He heard an equally gravelly reply followed by the duffle bag being flung onto the table in the center of the room. He pulled out another grease-stained bag from the top of the duffle bag and was disappointed, but not completely dejected, to fling it squished. He opened it with a grumble to confirm that the burger lost about 50% of its height. He set that on the table too, and turned his attention to Castiel, who had now moved in front of the stairs, facing Sam. He wore an open and expecting face.

Sam was pleasantly surprised at this. The somber stature of his face no longer seemed to drag him. He looked like he stood a little taller since Sam left.

"You look good. Did anything happen?" Sam cautiously asked as he turned bag to the bag and began slowly picking out instruments from it to see what had gotten the worst of the rain, but not before catching something in Castiel's eye.

"No. Nothing really..everything went fine."

So Cas got better at hiding things huh.

"Where's Dea-"

Two arms crushed him into a body that he assumed was attached to the man himself.

"Hungh! Hey Dean." He squeezed out of his lungs, arms unable to move from his brother's vice-like grip around his middle. He craned his neck around to be able to peek at brown hair just below his shoulders. Was he...nuzzling..?

Finally, Sam was released and able to turn to take a good look at him. Dean's shirt was crumpled along with his long sweats which matched his slightly puffy face and haphazard hair. He brought a hand up to his face and rubbed his eyes, keeping a goofy and grateful smile on his face. Sam wished he had a camera.

"Good to see you man. Was wondering if I had to go out and get ya." Dean rubbed a hand through his hair now and glanced around Sam at his bag.

"Dean, I texted you last night." Sam said incredulously.

"Well you should have called me." Dean gave him a 'not my fault you're dumb' look.

"I've been calling while I drove down."

"Your phone has been ringing all morning Dean. It woke me up from sleeping." Cas provided oh so helpfully. He had shuffled around the room to a small table leaned against a wall to grab a steaming cup that was now clasped in his hands. Dean tried not to glare.

Sam looked to his left at Castiel's new position, confused.

"Why did Dean's phone wake you..?"

"SO did you find somethin?" Dean pointedly ignored the question, even though it wasn't directed at him, and crossed his arms in front of himself, fully facing his brother. Sam squinted at him before turning back to his bag.

"I found a ritual. By all accounts it should work." He pulled out a smaller bag and pulled from that an arrowhead and set it on the table. Dry as a bone, thank god. Sam was worried if it got wet, the blood would wipe off.

"Great. I'm ready to be de-dog-i-fied asap. All this," He waved his hands in the air for emphasis, "Hearing animals talk and shit is really messing with our food runs."

Castiel had moved to stand next to Sam and was inspecting the arrowhead as a small ziplock bag of sage was pulled out as well. "He is referring to when he and I went out to get longhorns and was trying to maul a squirrel in a nearby tree." He explained with a small amused smile.

Sam, who was looking at Cas as he explained, now rose his eyebrows and turned back to Dean behind him. "A squirrel? Really, Dean?"

Dean also moved his steel-jawed look from Cas to his brother in defense. "Hey that mangy little bitch was insulting baby." He pointed a finger at Sam to prove his point. "Said he'd seen tricycles with better paint jobs and shit." A question of 'which baby do you mean?' was threatening to escape Sam's lips but he masked it with a shake of his head and bemused smile. He turned again to the table, bringing out the rest of the ingredients. Cas's drink made him want his own soon. And he was reminded that his clothes were soaked. His leather jacket had done little to shield him from the short walk to the front of the bunker.

"Ok then. I've got everything except," He held up the list again, " 'a blade forged in purgatory'" He looked expectantly at his brother who held his harms out, palms up in resolution.

"Perfect. I got that in my room right now." He nodded at Cas. "How bout I go get the blade, Cas sets up the dungeon in case this gets messy," Sam pursed his lips at his brother's nickname for the room behind the shelves of files as Cas's eyebrows twitched at the mention of his name. "And you go get dry." He clapped his hands and turned around, walking towards the archway into the hall.

"Lets get movin people! I want to be eatin' fudge pops by 7."

Chuckling, Sam turned to Cas who was making his way towards the same archway. "Hey, Cas." Castiel's robe was reminiscent of his trench coat, the way is billowed around when he turned back to Sam. He felt a small amount of guilt. "Thanks for taking care of Dean." He met the shorter man's eyes and tried to give him the most grateful look he could muster. Yeah it had been funny to think of all the shenanigans they had gotten into, but he felt compelled to let Cas know that in the end he did care about him. About his happiness. Cas gave him a small and tired smile back. "No problem Sam." And with that he left the room.

Sam let him leave and peeled off his jacket. It had finally hit how uncomfortable it was to be in wet leather for more than 5 minutes. He plopped it down on the other side of the duffle bag which was empty except for a small vile which held a thin glowing vein. He couldn't help but flinch at the sight of it before he gripped and put it in the table. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He allowed himself to collect his thoughts with only the hum of ambiguous machinery as company.

Had it been a mistake?

That simple question had ailed him for the entire ride back to the bunker. For the hundredth time, Sam relived what happened in that quaint kitchen. Sam poured all of the gratitude he could into that kiss. No, not just gratitude, he realized, but all of his suppressed emotions. He realized how easy to was to think of him as an ally, despite the trials he had put his brother and himself through. Gabriel tenderly obliged to the meeting of lips, holding the back of his head tenderly. Sam found himself relishing in his fingertips being shrouded by Gabriel's hair, whilst his own hair was being molested as well. Breathing in deeply through his nose offered cinnamon to assault his senses, which encouraged something in him. He felt the need to taste it. Gabriel's hand gripped his side in an effort to anchor himself on something, anything, in the swell that was Sam. Their chaste meeting of lips was everything in that either of them needed in that moment. It solidified something.

After an eternity, Gabriel was the one to break them apart. Moving his face away from Sam sharply. He kept a hand on the back of Sam's neck and another on his upper arm, pushing his gaze down towards the floor, breathing hard. "Shit." He cursed as he slid his grip of Sam, moved off the chair he was sitting in and rushed out the room upstairs.

Sam was left alone in the kitchen, feeling the alien by the sudden loss of contact and rejection. He was surprised to say the least. And then confused. Scrubbing his face to get himself back to reality, he braced two hands on the kitchen island and breathed out a long breath. Fuck.

Heavy shoes interrupted his thoughts and he turned to see Gabriel with a determined look and a small object in his hand. He walked up to Sam, grabbed his hand and put the object in it. A glance down told Sam that it was glass bottle holding a sharply glowing substance. He instantly recognized it.

"Use it." Was all Gabriel offered in explanation. Sam drew his brows together, still trying to comprehend their kiss and having trouble fully seeing the impact of the gesture. He looked up from his hand at Gabriel to meet a steeled jaw and ready eyes. He was about to speak when Gabriel returned his hand to the side of Sam's face and thumbed his cheek.

"Go fix your brother."

And that was the last Sam had saw Gabriel. What happened afterwards was a bit of a blank and fuzzy memory, not really important in his brain. He had just left, ready to go 'fix his brother' not really sure what that whole thing meant or if he was to deal with it now or later or what. But he had a job to do. So he numbly drove the long drive back to the bunker letting his head grind itself away without really coming to any conclusions. 'Dean now, Gabriel later' was becoming his mantra for the next few hours.

"Hey dumbass, you're makin a puddle."

Dean's voice ripped through his thoughts. Sam gathered himself in time to turn back at his brother and serve up bitchface #33. This earned him a 'hurry up' motion and the retreating figure of Dean as he turned back into the hall. Sam sighed and grabbed the brown bag, leaving the ingredients on the table, choosing to come back later, and made his way to his room and fresh clothes.

Dean now, Gabriel later.

**See? I didn't forget about you guys asking what the hell that squirrel said. **

**Keep those reviews and pms coming! I REALLY appreciate the feedback!**

**Happy New Years!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Took a break for the holidays and back to school, but I'm back! This one is hella long and was hella hard to write.**

**NOTICE: There is Latin in this chapter, but I used google translate so it is VERY roughly translated at the bottom.**

They made their way into the room and Castiel rolled the filing shelves back to reveal the cold concrete room that was lit by a hanging metal lamp. Dean all but skipped into the room, sitting in the chair that held numerous demons and other monsters in its life. Sam sauntered in, re-reading the instructions and glanced up at Dean, who was looking up at him like he was holding out a savory treat. Sam gave him a nod to acknowledge his impatience and let him know that he would need to wait a bit longer.

Castiel appeared to his left. "What do we need to do?"

Sam held towards him the sage and fur along with a clay bowl and pestle. "Grind these together." Castiel grabbed them silently and emptied the ziplock bag of each ingredient into the bowl. Sam busied himself by walking towards Dean and putting the arrowhead in his right hand and the olive branch in his left.

"Hold onto these and don't let it go." Dean nodded. Sam looked behind him and found Cas intently pushing the pestle through the dry mixture. He subconsciously felt the glass vial in his pants pocket.

"That's good Cas. Thanks." He made no move to take the bowl from him and looked again at the paper with hastily scrawled latin on it.

"Ok. Cas you'll have to hold the bowl for me, 'cus we're gonna need to draw blood from me and Dean and catch it in the bowl." Castiel's eyes widened a bit and Sam was again reminded at his empathy for humans and hating causing them pain.

"It'll go pretty fast." He offered as he handed Cas Dean's blade. "I'll tell you when." Castiel nodded again and Sam turned his attention to Dean who never really changed his face, too excited to be back to normal. Sam felt a twinge of remorse at the idea of not being able to see if he would chase a stick if he threw it or waking him up with the vacuum cleaner next to his head. Oh well.

Sam looked down at the paper again, took a step towards Dean so they were an arms-length apart, and read the words.

"Altissimus enim vocationem, Petere hoc fascinum Artemis."

The slow latin was joined by a low hum. "Cognosce conjecturam ejus, Homines fiunt caninis." Sam nodded to Cas then Dean, indicating Cas was to cut Dean's arm and gather some blood in the bowl. "Esto quod es. Converte hoc carmen. Canine in homine fecit." Cas stood up as Dean grimaced at his new cut and Sam held out his own arm to be done the same to. Cas obliged, gathering a little in the bowl. Sam then took the vial out of his pocket and added the contents to the bottle, pointedly ignoring Castiel's face for fear of him recognizing the Grace and questioning Sam or worse, pained at the physical reminder that Sam couldn't have asked him for it because he didn't have any.

The Grace flowed into the bowl as what Sam would imagine plasma would do. It immediately caused the bloody mixture to glow faintly like glow sticks. Sam ignored his scientific facisnation of the consistency of the ingredients as well as the sting of the cut on his arm and used the pestle to gently mix everything to a glowy-chucky paste. "Non amplius , maledicti sunt. Sed colligit in homine." He almost forgot to recite the rest of the Latin. The low hum now had gotten louder and a high pitched ringing was faintly heard. Although, it was apparent Dean could hear it because his head was now cocked to the side and pupils were blown wide.

"Non amplius , maledicti sunt. Sed colligit in homine."

Sam dipped two fingers in the mixture and held them up towards Dean's face, telling him silently to fix his angled head. Dean didn't move, looking through Sam.

Although worried, he pushed ahead, drawing Dark lines under Dean's eyes, down his nose and along his jaw while reciting the lines again.

"Non amplius , maledicti sunt. Sed colligit in homine." The bell had gotten louder and Dean seemed to vibrate.

He stepped back, letting his voice grow louder.

"Non amplius , maledicti sunt. Sed colligit in homine!"

A deafening silence clamped its mouth on the room, making Cas and Sam jump. It slowly gave way to their huffed breathing. Sam looked at Dean, who slowly lowered his head and opened his palms, which still held the branch and arrowhead, visibly relaxing. He looked at his palms, clenching and unclenching his jaw in thought.

"Well?" He finally said.

Sam looked him up and down. "Well you don't…look any different." Not that he looked much different when he was cursed in the first place.

Cas spoke up, "Maybe we should do some sort of test?" Sam licked his lips and paced slowly in thought.

He thought vaguely to the still uneaten burger in his room. They could dangle that in front of him. But Dean already loved a good burger anyway.

They could do an obedience test.

But Dogs can be disobedient easy. And it's not as if he knew that Dean was trained. Or was he? From being a hunter? It's worth a shot.

Sam stopped near the room's entranced, turned around and opened his mouth.

"Good Boy."

Sam shouldn't have been as surprised as he was, since he knew Cas had the book and probably studied it while he was gone, but his jaw would not unslacken regardless. Dean immediately sat upright and became fidgety, unable to wipe a huge grin off of his face until he saw Sam's.

No way.

No fucking way.

Sam brought a hand to cover his mouth which was now about to explode from laughter.

Ohmygod Dean was so whipped. Cas had actually trained him. He looked like he would piss himself from happiness. Sam was about to do the same.

"I do believe the reversal-spell hasn't worked."

Or maybe it got so much better. Dean flared his nostrils at Sam in warning and he forced himself to bite his tongue. Hard.

And of course, Cas was oblivious to it all, turning back to Sam in question.

Choosing to take the high, oh so high, road, he cleared his throat before responding.

"Yeah I, uhh, don't know what went wrong." He looked down at the paper again, really studying it this time. Cas came closer to look over his shoulder while Dean mulled on in his chair.

They had everything on the list. Was it the latin? He read each line again, making sure the grammer was correct. Unless he had forgotten his latin in the past 20 minutes, it was correct. Tenses and everything. Did they misunderstand something on the list?

"Who's handwriting is this?" Cas's voice rumbled next to him. Sam whipped his head up, refusing to let show how startled and unprepared for the question he actually was. Feigning innocence, he held up the latin.

"Oh this? Its mine. I wrote it." He then looked down and shuffled the papers pointedly, as if putting the latin in front of the other would magically make it the only paper Sam held.

But of course Cas wasn't talking about the latin. He was talking about the list of ingredients. The list of ingredients a certain Archangel wrote down while leaning on Sam's car while talking with Artemis.

"I do not mean the latin inscription, I recognize that as your handwriting. I speak of the list of ingredients underneath it."

"oh! Oh this? Yeah umm. No I didn't write it." He dared a glance at Dean who was now looking at him skeptically. He tried to divert the conversation. "Lets go into the library, I think I should brush up my Latin, I probably said something wrong." He grabbed the blade from Cas in an attempt to finish the discussion, and leave them to their own devices. But Dean just had to be a hard-ass.

"Brush up? Bullshit. You practically speak it in your sleep." Sam clenched his jaw, really not wanting this conversation. Dean pursed his lips, still in the chair, at Sam. 'Give it up' , his face said. Fine, if Dean wanted this can of worms opened, so be it.

"Gabriel wrote the list." Dean looked as if he'd been smacked.

"Gabriel? As in that asshole archangel?" He yelled incredulously. Fuck, Sam was gonna regret this.

"Yeah. We've been in contact. And have been for months." He looked right at Dean, daring him to comment. Which, ofcourse, he did.

"What the hell?!Have you gone completely insane?! You just decide to trust the guy who's fucked with us since day one?!" Dean shot up out of the chair, letting the olive branch and arrowhead fall to the ground in a clatter.

"Look its not what you think-" Sam started to explain, to try and tell Dean that there was no way he would sabotage the reversal spell.

"My brother survived the fall?" Cas's sad eyes we're wide when Sam turned to him. His quiet words cut through his erratic thoughts and made him feel a pang of guilt for the thousandth time. Since the fall, Cas had been cut off from his siblings, and this was the first time he had heard of one of them being alive. After all that grieving, Sam wouldn't be surprised if he hated him keeping this a secret. But Dean would not be ignored.

"And what exactly do you think that I think? Huh?!" Sam forced himself away from Cas. "Because I'm thinking that you just decided not to mention that you we're in cahoots with Gabriel the Archangel aka a, oh, no I'm sorry, THE trickster, was not too goddamn important to mention to anyone! Am I close?" He opened his arms arrogantly.

Sam ground his jaw and fought against the intensity of Dean's glare. "He didn't fuck up the spell on purpose Dean. I know it. Anytime I asked him for help, he's always come through. And I don't ask him out to tea every weekend either. Just-"

"Just what? Whenever you thought it got too heavy?!" Dean cut him off again, not wanting to hear it. "Why the hell do you think that's not something we work out TOGETHER. We've been through this. With Ruby. With your soul. NO secrets. That's the rules." He jabbed a finger towards the floor to make a point. "How the hell do you expect the family business to be a fucking family business if you're gonna keep things that could fuck us over?!"

Dean wasn't listening and Sam was just about done talking. If Dean wanted to play dirty, Sam could too.

"I did it because he was the only one who knew anything that could help you! And don't you fucking act like you haven't sat on some shit. Keeping secrets is something you have a fucking degree in." Dean's face contorted into offended confusion as he fell silent waiting for Sam to explain.

"I took a chance, and yeah I should have told you. But you don't get to lecture me about being truthful when you've got a goddamn elephant in the room approximately the size of The Chrysler Building." Sam chose his words and enunciated them pointedly and Dean's eyes took a moment to load before shooting wide, along with flared nostrils and tight lips.

Ok, it was a low blow, calling out his feelings for Cas, but Dean was spewing bullshit. And Sam was about done being called an idiot for choosing the only option in sight.

Refusing to look at Cas, Dean stormed out of the room, shoving Sam's shoulder as he passed. This cased Sam to face more towards Cas, who had removed his gaze form his shoes to look at the taller man.

"Cas. I'm sorry. You deserved to know and I should have told you." Cas just held his gaze there, confusion and a hint of betrayal in his eyes, and left the room swiftly. Sam felt bad about shoving him in the crosshairs of that, whether he knew it or not, and for keeping his brother's survival. He tried to find something in him to justify it but came up short. Sighing, he went around the room ansd gathered the objects, pausing at the now empty glass vial. A small voice told him that dean was right and this whole time Gabriel had been playing him. A final trick. An even smaller voice asked if he was even lying about his grace. Regardless, he knew what he needed to do.

Shoving everything in the bag, wiping his arm of the now-crusted on blood, he headed back to his room to get ready for the long drive back to Gabe's.

**So glad to see you guys are still liking the story! Feedback gives me life as well as helps me shape the future chapters so please please leave it if you can! PMs are good too if you have questions or suggestions!**

**Reviews are very welcome!**

Latin Translation

In the highest vocation, Artemis claims this spell. Know the meaning of it, Man that becomes the canine.(Dean is cut) Be what you really are. Reverse this song. Canine is now made into man.(Sam is cut and mixes the ingredients) No longer, is he cursed. But gathered into a man.

(While painting Dean)

No longer, is he cursed. But gather into a man.

(Sam steps back)

No longer, is he cursed. But gather into a man!


	18. Chapter 18

**Wowee this one's a doozy.**

**Trigger Warning: Hints of child abuse/homophobia**

Dean was too pissed to slam his door shut. He just growled into the room and preoccupied his hands by reaching for the first aid kit at the base of his nightstand. The dark box was popped open swiftly.

Gabriel. Of all fucking people, Sam chose Gabriel the fucking trickster to trust.

A small voice told him that it wasn't as if he hadn't held things form Sam in order to get a job done. And it's not like they haven't asked him for help before or even asked the help of more grisly characters.

He told the voice to shut the hell up.

Roughly taking off his shirt, he flung it on the bed next to be box that he was standing in front of. The fabric of the bed was green. At least, he remembered it being green. It mockingly stayed a dull grey. The bite of the alcohol he swabbed on the cut emphasized his deep disappointment of the past hour. He ripped open a fresh pack of gauze and tried wrapping it on his arm. The fabric slipped. "HAUGH." He growled/barked at it, handling it harshly around his skin so it irritated the wound more before giving up and defiantly flinging it on the bed.

"Let me." Cas had appeared in the doorway and Dean begrudgingly wondered how long he had been there. He shuffled over and grabbed the gauze despite the tight 'No thanks' Dean displayed on his face. Cas focused on straightening the gauze and Dean couldn't see his eyes, for which he found himself grateful. It would hurt if he could.

The off-white bandage was wrapped articulately around his upper arm and he numbly let Cas do whatever it was he was doing. He turned to face the bed still, as Cas faced his arm, making it so they were standing perpendicular.  
>What was Sammy thinking, letting Gabriel be in on their life like that? It would be different if it was some guy he knew from craigslist but this was a guy whos got a bad rep with them. He felt betrayed. And this isn't the first time. Sam should have just told him, so they could anticipate something like this. Ooh if he grew a fucking tail Gabriel was gonna get his ass kicked, angel or not. Dean had begun planning what he was going to do to Gabriel for allowing him to be a dumbass and think that trusting him was the best option when Cas interrupted.<p>

"Better?" He had let go if his arm already and Dean hadn't noticed.

He grunted in response, bot mild surprise and affirmation that it did indeed feel secure. Dean still faced forward, not turning to him as Cas held the box and walked towards the wall behind Dean, out of his periphery. He knew what Cas would say before he opened his mouth.

"You shouldn't pout."

Okay, he **thought** he knew what Cas would say before he opened his mouth.

"I'm not pouting!" He found himself snapping back and regretting it, turning his head to throw it at Cas. He really didn't want to open this conversation up to talking about what Sam so lovingly mentioned before he left the room. He turned his attention back to the hem of the top of his pants. Another flare of anger ran down his body. How he felt about Cas was none of his goddamn business. They weren't even.. like that! They were friends. Good friends.

_Friends who share a bed when you're freaking out at night._

Shut the fuck up.

_You know I'm right. You like__Cas__. In a more-than-profound-bond way, dude. And that's ok.__Preachin__' it at you with a gun on his hip don't make Dad right._

Shut. Your. Mouth.

_I don't got one, Idiot. I'm you._

"Its ok, you know."

As quick as the anger came, it was replaced by clammy panic. His heart beat so fast, he was sure Cas could hear it. He mentally checked, and prayed, he didn't say that last part out loud.

He swallowed thickly and spoke, letting his jaw loose from his unknown clenching. He tried to look casual as he slowly turned around to look at Cas, who was standing by the table behind him where he put down the first aid box.

"Oh?"

Castiel was looking slightly at the ground, not meeting Dean's eyes.

"I know that you are mad at Sam for what he did and said. But It's okay." He offered a small smile to the slowly more panicky Dean.

"Sam did not do what he did with the intent of betrayal or hurt." Dean let out a small sigh. Cas was talking about Sam and Gabriel.

"He knows that asking for help that you two have otherwise condemned-" He painfully said the word, a sense of apology for his brother's actions against the Winchesters. " is a dangerous idea. He wouldn't do this to spite you."

Dean felt the need to speak, to argue for his anger.

"But why do something so stupid? Why are you trying to convince me that I should be okay with my brother trusting someone like Gabriel with my, his own brother, life like that?!"

"Gabriel is my brother, Dean. No doubt he is injured badly from the fall. I knew if he was alive, he couldn't survive the fall without being very damaged. I could ask the same thing about you. Why would I trust **my** brother's life with yours?"

That made Dean stop.

Castiel was now looking at him calmly, but Dean knew better than that. It was an agitation. To get Dean to understand. Cas just found out his brother was alive and here goes Dean talking shit about him. To his fucking face. And on top of that, complaining about how his brother is endangering Dean's life while Cas has probably heard about Dean's plans to skin him alive, which were told to(and at one point agreed to by) Sam. It's a wonder there wasn't an angel blade sticking out of Dean's chest.

Cas continued speaking through Dean's thoughts again.

"Sam knows that this is risky. He would only do it if it was absolutely necessary and he didn't know what else to do. And yes, I wish he had told me of my brother's whereabouts, but I understand why he didn't. You should try and see that he's doing this for you. Not for himself."

Fuck.

Dean opened his mouth and closed it, not sure how to phrase his thoughts. He glanced back down to the floor.

Finally, after the room was thick with silence and his pants were sufficiently fidgeted, he spoke. "Okay but, he could have at least told me about the spell and what the hell was in it."

Cas nodded slightly and scrunched his brow, scratching his cheek idly.

"Yes, I understand. But I would like to ask you about his actions..."

Dean's chest involuntarily clenched again. Was this it? Was this Cas asking him about what Sam meant? Fuck, dude. Grow some balls, man up, face this shit head on.

"I assume Gabriel gave Sam the grace that he acquired. But that's would mean he had held some from his time in the war, which is unlikely. So I wanted to check if you had any in reserve you know about?"

Jesus H christ, he was gonna have a heart attack by the end of the day.

"OH um yeah no I don't uh, I don't think so man. But, you're welcome to look through the old trunks layin' around here." He sniffed loudly and rubbed his nose, finally resting his arms across his chest and idly picking at the gauze.

"Hmm. I think I will." Cas turned around to the box to close the lid with a snap.

"Also, its ok. I'm not asking anything from you."

Dean made an appreciative face but continued to look at Cas's chest, which adorned a white shirt, rather than his face. Did he have that on before? Dean quietly thought back to the ritual to think if Cas had something else on. He was too focused on being excited for the curse to be over. But it didn't. He felt a pang of remorse at rememebring how he basically blamed Sammy for everything.

There was a long stretch of silence and Dean realized that Cas probably was expecting a response. He tried to look back up and say something to ask Cas what he meant but two hands on either sides of his face and a mouth on his stopped him.

His eyes blew wide and he saw the long lashes of Castiel closed in concentration. The kiss lasted a second but it might as well have lasted a year. Castiel broke it, leaving Dean in a cloud of his scent and met his eyes for the second time since walking in this room.

Dean couldn't think or breath, surprised and delightfully excited, when he looked back at Cas. He stayed there, letting his irises drink in what he was seeing. Letting his head buffer. Castiel gave him an apologetic smile and shrugged lightly, letting his gaze drop down and Dean instantly missed it being on him.

"I understand."

Dean quickly realized then that this wasn't what he thought it was. He felt his mouth went dry. Cas said it regretfully, a sort of soft, but ultimate, recognition and subsequent dismissal to Dean's feelings. Dean could have laughed if he could move.  
>Cas was letting him down easy.<br>He urged himself to speak, to do anything, to almost argue his case, but a small and rough voice resembling John Winchester told him to sit his pansy ass there and forget it. So he sat there, shoving himself to form words. But he waited 2 seconds too long and Cas turned out of the room quietly.

The loss of his presence finally flipped that switch in Dean as he scrubbed a hand over his face. He looked around the room, his bedspread, the dingy lampshade in the corner, the photograph on the nightstand, the bright first aid box on the counter and finally his hands. Two deep breaths later, he fumbled in his pocket to call his brother.

He was pushed to voice mail. His phone was probably off.

"Sam? Call me Sleeping Beauty from now on cuz I just saw color for the first time in 4 days."

**WOW you guys I've gotten like 15k views on this story this is crazy.**

**And have you noticed we've started at like 200 words per chapter and now I'm averaging at like 1k words?! **

**Much love to you all  
>Reviews are always welcome and appreciated!<strong>


	19. Chapter 19

**This is technically part one of chapter 19, FYI.**

**Been loving the reviews guys!**

The storm had now lifted and Sam was fuming. At who, he wasn't exactly sure. He saw his brother's point, he should have told him about meeting up with Gabriel. But then again, his brother is also an asshole. But would Gabriel fuck with them like that? Honestly Dean was right, he didn't exactly have a clean track record. He gripped the steering wheel hard and went about 40 miles over the speed limit all the way to Gabriel's. He didn't bother to check his phone when he heard it ring, he knew it was Dean. He pressed 'ignore' so he could deal with it later.

He realized as he pulled up that he didn't have a plan. He vaguely contemplated busting in the door, gun ready. But that felt wrong. Plus something told him that Gabriel wouldn't go this far just to give him a flopped spell. He picked up the phone and ignored the '1 missed call' sign and called Gabriel. He did that three times, and each time he was sent to voice mail. A bad feeling gnawed at Sam's gut.

He parked along the street in front of Gabe's house and put his gun in his back pocket, preparing for anything. As he touched the duffle bag, the sharp memory of what happened in the kitchen a some odd hours before entered his mind. He swallowed spit and shoved it down before stepping out of the car and bounding the steps. He saw lights on in the small living room to the left of the door, but saw no-one inside. Knock? Kick down the door? Definitely not. He decided to be polite.

He banged on the door 3 times, yelling Gabriel's name, and swung the unlocked door open, gun ready.

He was met with silence and thought the house empty until a hearty voice called out.  
>"Sam! Come on in." It was yelled out like he was an old firned that was late for dinner. Sam walked into the dining room where the voice had come from and realized that might have been exactly what he did. He still held his gun at his side as he looked at the table covered with remainders of a meal concerning fish and some sort of vegetable. He supposed Gabriel had served it up due to his guest, who was a woman that Sam would describe as very sharp looking.<p>

She had ashen looking skin that seemed to put her in an entire different lighting, as if she wasn't here at all, just a projection and her actual body lurked in a dark cave. She wore a midnight blue halter dress and straight black hair that cascaded down her shoulders like a shawl. She lounged with her elbow on the white tablecloth, making her all the more dark in the well-lit room. Sam would have said that she looked uncomfortable for the room if she didn't already seem like she had been living here all along, amongst the stark contrasts. Her intense gaze, bright orange eyes, drank him in and Sam felt a strange sense of anger he wasn't expecting upon finding them.

"Hello Sammich." Gabriel called the attention towards him, as always.

Sam turned slightly, finding him at the head of the table, the woman was sitting to his right as Sam was standing in the doorway directly in front of the stranger.  
>"Please, sit down. We've just finished dinner." Gabriel directed a hand towards the seat in front of Sam. He flared his nostrils at the chair.<p>

"I don't want to sit down, Gabriel." His words were short. "I want to know why the hell it didn't work."

Gabriel looked at Sam like one would look at a puppy they kicked, which made him angrier.

"Wow, I think you should just sit down while I explai-"

"NO Gabriel. You're gonna tell me what the hell is going on, right now, while I'm standing, so I can get the hell out of here and fix my brother." He made steady eye contact and saw those golden globes darken. His face dropped all appearances and Gabriel looked smoothly at the woman to his right. She held her hands clasped together, elbows neatly on the table, and mouth tucked behind them, and never raised her stare from Sam.

She moved slightly, raising her head so a par of thin dark blue lips could be seen, and demanded the room's attention.

"Hello Sam. I'm Eris, goddess of discord. How lovely of you to join us for dinner."

**10 points to whomever can guess where I got my 'vision' for Eris.**

**Like I said, this is actually part one of two because I didn't wanna overload this chapter.**

**Reviews are always welcome!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Here have some Sabriel feels.**

Sam was taken aback. He suddenly felt like a five year old waving a toy gun around in a cowboy costume. Multiple responses went through his head but nothing came out. He just stood in the doorway, with his mouth numb and not working.

Eris, godess of friggin discord, the queen of fucking shit up and making lives hell, was in Gabriel's dining room having dinner. And Sam just barged in with a knife and a gun.

"Please. Sit."

A wave of her hand pushed the chair out a little and Sam fought yet easily gave into the urge to plop himself in it. She glanced down to the hand that held the gun and he immediately placed it on the table. He again tried to speak and failed to move his mouth. In fact, he struggled to move anything.

"Eris…" Gabriel gave a warning his at her from Sam's right. He tried to turn his head but whatever she was doing wouldn't allow his attention to stray.

"Gabriel dear, won't get our guest a tall drink of water? He seems a bit shaken." Her smile turned sickly sweet. But not in the pleasant way Gabriel does it, when he's completed a prank, but in a very dangerous and threatening way. As if she was a snake that was contemplating swallowing your soul. Sam didn't put it past her, actually.

"Eris. " Gabriel said it a bit gentler, a sort of plea, and Sam felt his neck tingle. In a panic he moved a hand to grip it, thinking that she was constricting his airflow. Then he remembered that he just moved his hand. Sam did a quick body check and found he could feel everything, a good sign.

"Why are you here Samuel? Did Gabriel play a little trick on you?" She kept a smile and looked to Gabriel.

This time he shook his head and chuckled. "Still trying to make games, Eris?" He grabbed his wine glass and took a sip. Sam's confused eyes followed the movement and was surprised to find Gabriel's on his as soon as the glass was returned. "Go ahead Sam." He spoke calmly, without reserve. An ache was felt inside of Sam, because he sounded familiar again.

Sam glanced between the two celestial beings, then back at the table. After steeling his jaw, he looked at Gabriel.

"I know, that you know, that the spell didn't work." Gabriel turned his head slightly but gave away nothing.

"And I also know that you know why. Now I need to know if you are gonna fix it, or are we-" Sam raised his eyebrows for emphasis, not even trying to hide his impatience, "going to have a problem." He felt ballsy showing his anger in front of such a powerful entity. He hoped the fact that it was not directed at her would cause her to ignore his tone.

Gabriel released the stem of his wine glass and clasped his hands together on the table, leaning forward on his elbows.

"You're right Sam, I do know why it didn't work." Sam sighed out air he didn't know he was holding. He had half-expected Gabriel to lie.

"But. It's already fixed."

What?

Sam gave a single laugh and looked between the two, feeling a sense of betrayal creep up. Gabriel was still messing with him. Had he been tricked this entire time? He sardonically wondered how far back Gabriel had been planning this.

"I'm not kidding Sam." Sam saw that his face was serious to which he returned a very confused one. Gabriel decided to help out his brain.

"Eris here did me a favor. Dean should be de-doggy-fied within the hour. And that was an hour ago." Sam glanced to Eris now, seeing if this was a joke and if by some chance she woudl give it away.

She just kept the same cool smile. "Gabriel isn't the only one who can change his appearance dear. I'm surprised he couldn't recognize me in the field."

"It was good. Except Artemis doesn't give two shits about where Orion is buried and never would."

Sam's brain was reeling trying to understand what was happening. "So, you're saying this was all a trick by you," he nodded, definitely not pointed because that he felt like he could not get away with, to the cold entity across form him, " Because you wanted to mess with us?"

A burst of giggles, or something like that, came from Eris. "Oh, no. I had an itch named Diana that needed to be scratched. What better way than to use her greek name in a latin spell?" She placed the napkin that Sam didn't know was in her lap, on the table.

"But explanations of when and why doesn't really require me here does it? You two obviously have things to speak of and I've got places to be, things to do, stuff to steal. You understand."

She stood and glided over towards the kitchen.

"I expect to see you around the bend Loki. " She reached the doorway, held a hand on it, and turned abruptly.

"Oh and, Sam? " He looked to her face, shrouded by shadow because of the light coming behind her. "You could try and remember that its rude to interrupt a dinner party."

She snapped her fingers and disappeared into her own personal tiny black hole.

Sam sat still for a moment, processing that he had just held conversation with the goddess of discord, before turning back to Gabriel who was met his sight.

Sam's confusion wasn't sedated.

"What...just...what?"

Gabriel sighed. "As soon as you got back, I realized that the spell was wrong. Artemis's name is greek, not latin. Using it in the spell would fuck with her equilibrium." He pushed a hand through his hair. "So, I did some detective work and got to Eris."

"What do you mean, 'did some detective work?'" Sam couldn't help the heat in his voice. He felt out of the loop and threatened by the idea of not only Eris just on a whim deciding to fuck shit up with his brother, but Gabriel's connection with her. Why was she to be suddenly trusted?  
>Gabriel seemed to have read between the lines because his face became stone at Sam's question. He had rested his elbows on the table.<p>

"I mean I asked around. Called up some favors. And now it's fixed."

"So that's it?" Sam held his hands open on the table. "I come over, ask a question and done?"

"I think you mean barged in, accused me of trying to fuck you over, and finding out I took care of it. But your version works too." Gabriel spoke through clasped hands, a dam for the flood of anger coming through his face.

His demeanor only made Sam defensive.

"I was under the impression that Dean would be fine-"

"He is!"

"by the time I finished that spell. Lets not pretend that it wasn't risky of me to even ask for your help in the first place."

Gabriel stood up quickly. "Wow. And they say that you're the nice one." He snatched his plate form the table and walked into the kitchen behind Sam with it. Sam scoffed and looked down at his phone which had buzzed in the midst of their conversation. It showed 3 new text messages.

_Sammy something happened. I'm fine. 100% Grade A human. No more doggy breath or anything, and I think it has to do with Cas. So call me back._

_ I don't know what you did but you better get back here to fill me in. __Call._

_Goddamnit Sammy you better be dyin. Call me back asap because I WILL hunt your ass._

Sam rubbed his temple as he was flooded with the memory of Dean and His argument not a few hours before. Sighing, he thumbed the phone's screen before finally sending off a response to calm his agitated brother.

_Everything's fine. I'm doing clean up. Will call soon_. _And yes, you're cured 100%._

He pocketed the phone again along with the gun before walking into the kitchen.

**Still giving points to whomever can guess where I got my image for Eris.(Hint: Its Dreamworks)**  
><strong>Keep those Reviews and PMs comin! I love hearing feedback and the ending is largely gonna be swayed by you guys.<strong>

**Hope you guys had a cool valentines day!**


	21. Chapter 21

**So a few ppl PMd me about this site called destinysgateway having a few of my fics on there and was worried they stole it.  
>Just FYI, they asked to host my fic on there and I gave them permission so don't worry if you see it. But thank you for your concern!<br>Now if you see any other sites, THEN its not by me.**

**Also, since I gave you 2 chapters with Sam, had to do 2 chapters with Dean. (aka, this is part 1)**

Castiel walked out of Dean's room with a mid-weight heart. He remembered the expression 'heavy heart' that humans used, but didn't feel like it applied. He wasn't lighthearted either. So, he aptly decided on mid-weight.

But, sitting on his bed his legs felt heavy as ever. Something deflated in him and he sat in the room, in silence, counting the tiles on the floor. He placed his hands on either sides of his person, and fingered loose threads on the blanket. He would scrape his slipper-covered foot towards the tile he was looking at as if to say 'Hey. You. Don't you move.'. His mind cranked out the previous occurrence so it would stick. So something could stop his senses form being dull.

He had kissed Dean.

He remembered the dull warmth of his mouth and stopped his foot from scraping against the floor. It ignited him and yet he tensed, not wanting to move, not wanting to slacken and let it go. After all, it was the last time. He should be allowed to savor it.

It had been more chaste than he expected. But Dean's mouth was soft. Cas held slight amusement at his surprise at that, as if Dean's lips would be as rough as his demeanor. But with good reason. He remembered the hand-print left on his shoulder, a physical reminder of their bond. Cas had ran through certain possibilities in his head but found himself uneasy about his latest decision. Of course, it had been on his mind for a while now. Sam confirmed it in the holding room. It took him all of 3 minutes to guess what he meant by elephant in the room. All the times Cas had tried to hide it, all the timed he tried to shorten the amount of staring, hadn't been enough. That was clear. It was also clear that Dean knew of it too, otherwise he wouldn't be as angry as he was at Sam at the time. He probably was going to handle the idea of 'them' in his own way. But Cas felt that after all his talk of hatred toward Gabriel, he wanted on Dean by taking the opportunity away from him. To catch him by surprise. And that he did.

He busied himself from dwelling on it by making a list of things needed to be done this evening. No doubt Sam would be back soon, and probably with a different solution. So he would need to clean the holding chamber of its blood dribbles from Dean's arms. He vaguely wondered if the bowl would be needed cleaning too. He should probably do that anyway before he leaves.  
>Looking at the bags in the corner of the room his eyes passed a clock. He had been sitting in the same spot on the bed for over an hour. He vaguely wondered what Dean was doing, or really what his reaction was, in the past hour.<p>

A knock at his door made him jump. Of all responses, a visit from Dean was not expected.

Nevertheless, he could see how Dean would want to have the last word.

He opened the door calmly and rested his hand on the door knob, expecting to be able to talk through the doorway. The less explanations he would have to give the easier it would be. But, Dean shoved his way inside, making eye contact with the ground, just as he had when Cas had last seen him.

Cas swallowed thickly in preparation. "Hello, Dean."

Dean had his back turned with a bandaged arm scratching his head. He was fidgeting, which Cas took note of.

He turned around at Cas saying his name, and it was followed by the door closing.

"Cas. I…" He paused and closed his eyes. When they opened, he was trained on Cas's face. Castiel saw that this would not be a simple conversation, but already had an idea of how it would go.

"I have not been treatin' you right."  
>Castiel blinked about twelve times in utter confusion before speaking. "Ex-excuse me?"<br>Dean placed one foot forward, strengthening his stance and inching into the 3 foot space between them.  
>"I.…care. About you."<p>

Castiel's eyebrows shot up but mouth stayed closed. He had already conveyed to Dean that he understood his feelings, so why was he so compelled to tell him this? Castiel already knew that Dean and his bond could not be broken easily, and their escapades would naturally cause them to care about each other in some capacity. Did he think that Castiel was hurt by him not reciprocating his feelings? He furrowed his brow then relaxed in realization.

It was around dinner time and Dean would be in this mood until food was provided. Castiel remembered reading that begging and appealing to the provider was common during meal times.

"Ah. Yes. I know Dean." He stepped to the side to reach his desk next to the door, still facing Dean, and picked up a few food pamphlets.

"Would you like a bacon cheeseburger or some sort of stew? I'm sure if we order soon, food would be here in an hour." He read a pamphlet advertising the use of real farmer's meat when he heard the intake of break by Dean indicating he was about to speak. He looked up to see a very droopy-eyed pouty man.

"No. Cas, I'm not hungry. I wanna talk." Cas slowly set the pamphlet down. So this was going to be a very lengthy conversation.

Dean continued, "Back there…I..didn't know what to say. Which was my bad but uh, we kinda…well, you were there right?" He cocked a smile, and Cas gave him a small one. He immediately regretted welcoming this conversation, realizing that it might be too hard to bear hearing Dean say it. But he stayed silent, hoping he looked calmer than he felt.

Dean put his hands in his pocket, shifting from foot to foot, now averting Castiel's eyes again. Yes. He was sure this was going to hurt. "And um,..I don't think that just because,…wait, are those packed bags over there?" Dean's eyes had settled on the two bags in the corner that had slipped Castiel's mind, and Castiel felt ashamed.  
>"Uh, Yes. I can't be expected to travel without my possessions, yes?"<br>Dean looked back at him in slight horror. "You're leaving?" He held his hands out in disbelief, while Castiel shoved his in his pockets and averted his eyes. And yes, he saw the irony in mimicking Dean's stance.

"Yes. Dean. I will not be staying with you and Sam any longer."

**Oh god don't hate me for all these cliffhangers. And to answer who I modeled our latest character after, it is Eris from dreamworks' Sinbad. I love that movie. No-one got it but a lot of you came real close so everyone gets points!**

**Feedback is always welcome!**


	22. Chapter 22

**Woah oh geez wowee you guys' reviews make my heart hurt. (With joy)  
>Trigger warning: Hints of Child abuseHomophobia**

**Also, this is so late because I had SUCH a problem planning it out, so I'm shoving it all into one mega-chapter.  
>Enjoy!<strong>

"What?! Why not?!" Dean sounded angry and betrayed. A constriction built in Castiel's chest and he willed his eyes not to water. He had long learned how to control his crying, but stopping them from watering in the first place was still difficult.

Cas plowed through his rehearsed words. "I have money saved and will be able to get transportation. There is a friend I h-"

"What the fuck do you mean- Why the hell are you leaving?!"

"Because staying is too hard." Castiel spit the words out, ashamed of his own weakness. This human life was proving to be too challenging for him. Years of wars and he was reduced to near tears over a few packed bags. As far as Dean goes, He might as well have smacked him. The look he gave him was full blown appalled and hurt. He had dropped his hands and pressed his lips together. He slowly drew up a finger to point at Castiel, who prepared for onslaught of reasons.

"You. Are a part of this family. Why the hell can't you get that." The words we're shoved through clenched teeth and Castiel felt that yearning to stay. He shoved it away. "We have been through too goddamn much to walk away. You can't just leave us because you can't handle my feelings for you. That's not fair. That's not fair to Sam, or to me."

Castiel shot up, he felt like his eyes might bulge out of his skull. He thought he had misheard and licked dry lips before speaking.

"Your feelings for me?"  
>Dean let out an exasperated sigh, wrinkling his forehead in condescension. "Yes. Cas. Fine. You wanna hear me say it out loud?" He looked at Cas with bitchface whatever the fuck number because Cas wasn't sure he could breath, which is an alarming sensation. "I love you. I have for a while."<p>

Castiel gripped the edge of the desk to his right. He deflated his lungs, attempting to comprehend what he was being presented. Did Dean mean, family love? The same love he feels for his brother? Was it the curse?

"I haven't stopped thinking about you, haven't stopped thinking about the idea of us, for a while. I think about it about every damn day and night. And you're the best thing to ever happen to me. Does that make it easier for you? Does me saying out loud make you feel better about this?"

In his attempted to get his brain online, Cas ended up regurgitating his thought process.  
>"Th-the curse its causing you t-to say-"<p>

Dean held his gaze in the palm of his hand, and Cas could not break it. "Sam fixed me. The curse isn't making me say anything I don't mean." His chest puffed as he paused to ready himself for his next words. "I love you and need you here. WE need you here. And if you can't handle it, you don't get to leave. You suck it up, and work it out like the rest of us. I don't care how much you 'understand.'" He applied air quotes and clenched his jaw.

This didn't make sense. Cas's brain felt like it was overheating. Or maybe his face was.

It wasn't until a full 30 seconds of silence had passed could he then practically hear the click in his brain and let out a loud noise resembling a single laugh in disbelief. Dean received it with a defensive hardened face. Cas leaned against the wall in between the door and desk with one hand clutching his jaw, the other wrapped around his stomach, acting as some sort of attempt to pull himself together. He didn't know whether to cry or laugh louder. After another 30 seconds he placed a palm to his forehead and looked to the ceiling. "Dean I am afraid to tell you that we are possibly incompetent." Dean cocked his head to the side slightly in offense.

"Really now? I'm dumb?" He raised his eyebrows, an invitation to insult him more. He was pissed.

"This entire time, I thought you didn't-..I thought you didn't feel the same way I felt about you." He rubbed his eyes, the threat of tears more prevalent. Damnit.  
>He couldn't see what Dean's face was because he refused to remove his sight from the ceiling, but he assumed it was one of processing. The silence that followed acted as a tiny yet effective hammer in the small dam he had built on his mouth.<br>"This entire time. I thought that you could never have loved me. And now you are saying that you do." He sniffed. Damn. Damn. Damn. "And I can't even begin to tell you how much, well, how profound that is to me. I am not…useful. Yet you say the things you do." He dropped bleary eyes to green ones. Dean looked ready to jump, but his face was as open and soft as ever.

Cas continued, letting his emotions fill the room. "I thought I understood that you could never be here. That this could never be a possibility. I know enough of your childhood that I thought you couldn't allow it. But-" Castiel had to sniff hard and stop himself from speaking or real actual tears we're going to fall.

Not only was Dean saying he loved him despite how he was raised, but the fact that Cas was a glorified maid at this point made his human form ache. He was useless to the Winchesters, dead weight. For Dean to see value, overwhelmed him.

He lowered his chin to his chest and allowed himself to close his eyes, but not before hearing Dean's steps approaching. He quickly felt two arms surround him and he clutched at his back. He hated this irony. He just found out the man he loved, loved him back, and all he was feeling was weak, and shame. His two hands gently clutched the back of Dean's shirt as he felt two lips press firmly to his temple. Dean's shoulder provided a resting place as he turned his head to allow the sensation to be repeated on the outer corner of his eye. "Never. Think." Dean's voice was slightly raspy at the attempt at speaking gently. He repeated the motion on the top of his cheekbone now. "That you are." He moved to the cheek. "Ever. Insignificant." Finally Castiel's varying emotions we're rewarded when Dean turned his face and he was presented with a firm and determined kiss. Dean smelled like the new aftershave they bought a few days ago and Castiel released one hand form Dean's upper back to rest his fingers on his cheek. As he brought his brain away from the fact that he was getting kissed, he focused on the sensation of actually being kissed. His lips we're acutely aware to the slight curve and strength of Dean's.

He felt almost too warm in his chest. Much like drinking whiskey but much more potent. Dean's mouth wasn't one to quit as he broke the kiss and immediately came back with more heat. The warmth spread and Cas remembered that they we're against a wall. The third meeting shot the warmth straight to his groin and he groaned softly. It caused his counterpart to break the kiss and leave their foreheads together, which Castiel found himself dismayed. He opened his eyed to find Dean's, heavy-browed, staring back at him, focused.  
>"I need you."<p>

That was all it took for him to forget the tightness in his chest and focus on the tightness of his pants and how to fix that.

* * *

><p>His brain was flooded with Dean. Dean's face, Dean's hands, Dean's hands gripping his side, Dean's mouth on his neck, Dean's thigh slotted between his. He found his own hands running across the hunter's still clothed chest, amazed at how the simple motion both sedated and hungered him.<p>

He pawed the cotton shirt off as well as his own and both men shuffled closer to the bed before the edge hit the back of Cas's knees and falling, Dean on top of Cas with half his legs dangling off the edge of the bed and Dean being forced to brace his knees at the edge as well. The slippers Cas had been wearing before were all but flung off. They sat there, devouring each other's mouths, filling the room with wet sounds that comically, Cas thought, would gross out Sam sooooo much. Cas reached down and, despite his better judgement, pushed his hands against Dean's growing member. Cupping it in his hand was enough to make Dean hiss out a 'Fuck.' and break their long kiss sharply, flinging his head to the side. Castiel immediately snatched his hand back, realizing he had probably pushed Dean too far. Had he ever even been with a man? Cas felt guilty for expecting so much of him. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pressure y-"

Dean brought his head back towards Cas. "You're just…" He didn't finish the sentence but stood slightly and shimmied out of his pants, leaving him in boxer briefs. He waited there before cocking an eyebrow. "I've been waiting a long-ass time for this. But I'm not gonna if you don't want to."

Castiel swallowed, taking in the wide-blown pupils and heavy breathing of the man on towering over him. Looking back at Dean's expectant face, he was hit with the sharp memory of one of the pages he read from the book currently laying on the kitchen table a few rooms over and made the decision to take the advice in stride. In fact, it excited him. Look them in the eye and make sure to say the phrase clearly, especially before giving them a treat.

"Dean." He spoke softly, not on purpose, but because he wasn't exactly sure this would work.  
>"Fuck me."<p>

If Dean's eyes could get any more pupil Cas didn't know, because suddenly Dean had all but lunged to and his mouth was being attacked with searing heat, which caused him to close his eyes. He felt thin fabric being shifted uselessly around Dean's penis as he ground against Castiel's loose black pants. He moaned into Dean's mouth before he felt him get up and shift down, latching on to his collar bone while fumbling with the zipper of said pants and Cas felt cool air against his thighs. Dean's head disappeared again and he felt a mouth now trailing towards his newly exposed skin. Looking down to see that brown head of hair so close, so painfully close, caused him to twitch.

Slow and steadily, Dean worked his way up and around his bellybutton. Breathing heavy, every inch achieved in the direction he wanted, Dean would dart away. Losing his mind from the tense pressure pushing against his briefs, Cas reached down to bury a hand in that hair, thumb resting on the back of Dean's ear, and let the other grip the blanket. He had meant to grab his head and move it closer to his own, to capture those lips so they could do something other than tease. 'Had' is the key word because the next thing he knew a warm wet mouth was on his growing shaft and a sharp intense pleasure shut off all senses.

His head whipped back and he involuntarily gave a yelp.  
>So this is what it feels like. He would have mused to how different it actually felt, to have Dean's tongue apply and take away pressure through the thing cotton, versus how he had imagined it if he could do anything other than shut his eyes and hold Dean's head.<p>

* * *

><p>Dean let Cas squirm for a little, getting the cloth sufficiently soaked with saliva and precum before stopping and allowing him to remove his grip of the bed. He looked up at the heavy-lidded eyes and didn't break the eye-contact as he raised his head and swiftly pulled down what remnants of clothing Cas had left. He looked down and was rewarded with a fully erect trophy that he almost moaned at the sight of it. And that surprised as well as excited him. It wasn't as if this was the first time he's put his mouth over a dick before. (His younger years and, later on, drunken nights led him to places he's not completely proud of) And it wasn't as if Cas's was particularly gorgeous. It was the fact that this was Cas's dick he was about to taste. This was Cas's body he was now reducing to moans and squirms and whines. This was Cas's body he was getting to damn near devour.<p>

As if having sentience, the member in front of him twitched and Dean placed his lips directly on the tip. Cas gave a whine and bucked his hips. Dean smirked and placed another kiss at the base of his shaft, causing another buck along with a more annoyed whine. He looked back up, expecting to see a wrecked and pouty face, ready to express annoyance, but only saw Cas's head thrown back again, and eyes screwed shut, seemingly refusing to move. Turning back to his work, he placed another kiss a bit further up, then another, and another, each eliciting a whine that turned more into a moan before finally opening his jaw and taking in as much as he could.

Dean was sure as hell glad that Sam wasn't home because Cas's moan was guttural and loud. He made no intent to waste time and quickly picked up a rhythm, swirling his tongue once closer to the tip of the head. Cas was quickly coming undone with every swirl and Dean felt his own cock strain in his briefs, the front warm and cold with precum. Breathing heavy, he came up for air and to the opportunity to slide a hand down and around his waistband and pluck it down, felling the cold air and causing him to twitch. Cas was breathing just as hard, releasing his hold on Dean's hair when he came up and obviously trying, and failing, to gather himself. His chest heaved and every pass of air was accompanied by small noises, as if the moans we're the only language he spoke, forgetting all English from before. Dean settled a hand over his own shaft before swallowing the length of Cas again. He had to hold a hand on his hip bone to keep Cas from bucking into his throat, a bit more than he could handle.  
>He found himself moaning into his cock as he began stroking himself. It was a heat that fizzled through his being and it was intoxicating and delicious. Speeding up, the moans got higher, and faster. Two, three more pumps and Castiel came undone, him exploding in a tense back arching and chest aching moan into Dean's mouth which he gladly took and subsequently pushed him over as well. Dean numbly made a note to offer to clean the mess he made on the edge of the bed.<p>

Both their bones feeling like Jello, Dean crawled up the bed and laid next to Cas. He placed sloppy kisses on his jaw, cheek, eyelids, and of course, mouth. The response given was heavy puffs of hot breath on his skin as he wrapped an arm around his bedmate and small grunts of exhaustion. The room felt dense, the sheets suddenly scratchy and he felt very raw and numb at the same time. Something he experiences rarely after cumming. He knew, it was a sharp little needle in his mind, that this bliss would end in the morning and he would have to deal with the fact that one, He and Cas are something. Or they will be something. Two, Castiel basically confessed loving him and not feeling good enough. Three, He had just had sex with a dude and wasn't drunk.  
>But right now, he buried his head in dark mussed hair and pretended that the world didn't exist outside this bed. And that everything was gonna be apple pie and blue skies.<p>

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	23. Chapter 23

**Now, for the Sabriel interlude.**

Did he feel weird? Of course. That's a stupid question. He was angry, and confused, but most of all he felt weird. He felt like a box of crayon pieces someone left in the car for too long on an 80 degree day. And he couldn't even tell you why.

He was clanging about with the dishes and filling them into the dishwasher as Sam walked in.

What was he doing? This is definitely not macho behavior. God fucking damnit he hated being so goddamn human. All of his emotions just out there, he couldn't control it. He _felt_ things now. Stupid things.

"I don't think you did it on purpose."

Sam's voice made his hand twitch. He responded by pushing a mug rather forcefully into the water, as if his voice was inside of it and he could literally drown it out. He did that for a few more mugs. Surprisingly, it made him feel a little better.

"I said I don't think you did it on purpose." Gabriel, back still turned scrunched his eyebrows together. He turned around to face Sam. His hands gripped the chair where it happened not too long ago. Gabriel pushed ahead, not getting hung up on the tightness it caused in his stomach. "I didn't think that you did."

Sam's face was tense and a bit unreadable. He shifted from foot to food before speaking.

"Why we doing this Gabriel? Why is this suddenly some sort of daytime television set up?" He threw up a hand to make a point, ignoring the comical idea of Gabriel setting up yet another daytime television set up for him to agonize through. "I came here for answers and get treated like its 15 minutes past my bedtime and should run along like a good boy. This is my brother, Gabriel. What the hell do you expect me to do!"

"I don't know!" Gabriel's chest felt hot, the words spewing out of his brain. "I don't know anymore! I don't know what's happening to me. I'm too fucking tired of trying to figure it out." Gabriel found himself wishing Sam would get what he was saying so he didn't have to say it out loud. He rubbed a hand through his hair, as if to wipe away his thoughts. "I just..Without my grace, it's hard to act like nothing matters. Everything hurts one second then I'm hungry, then I'm having to pee at the _weirdest_ hours of the night." He took a breath. "I don't know how to be human Sammy. I don't think I ever really did." Gabriel played it smart and saved him the full list of problems he had with being Human. Sam had already gotten the preview when he found him in his room.

"Like I said. Eris owed me a favor. I told you what happened. Just because we run in the same circle doesn't mean I'm the same as her y'know. I at least still have a conscious. I'd like credit for that." He tried to sound cheery, to mask the fact that he was doing anything and everything to stop Sam's eyes from going deep and sad.

And of course, he looked up to find those big puppy eyes looking at him. The second they met his, they seemed to widen, an idea coming to his head. "But that vial of grace you gave me. I don't need it. I-"

Gabriel shook his head, cutting him off. "That wasn't grace. That was a sort of…piece of heaven." He shrugged his shoulders lightly, not expecting Sam to understand. And the moose gave him that characteristic turn of the head and furrowing of brow. He might as well have been blowing a dog whistle.

Gabriel huffed a laugh sardonically, it shouldn't feel so easy being around him. It really shouldn't.

"You huma-", he caught himself, "Many people have called it different stuff over the years. Aurora borealis, stardust, kids wishes and shit. Just chunks of the 'big castle in the sky."

Sam just looked at him blinking. Gabriel could see that he was desperately coming up with a question to help control his mind.

"The spell called for a pure soul. I don't have that, not anymore." And there go the puppy eyes again. "Oh don't make that face. I had to give you something else. I already gave you the last of my grace." And that just made the elephant in the room blow up. He could practically taste the tension as they both simotaneously remembered what happened here not too long ago. Gabriel subconsciously fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, feeling that the long-sleeved V-neck was getting tighter and slightly itchy.

Thank god for Sam's overactive brain, because he put a sheet on the elephant for just a little longer.

"You think I don't know that you have a conscious?" Sam asked. Gabriel was now looking at the floor. Holy shit. This might be worse. "You think I hate you."  
>It was Gabriel's turn to scoff, he looked up and rolled his eyes, resting them on the archway Sam came through a minute before. Avoiding Eye contact. "Please. I'm not 5, am I?" He smiled at his own humor, but his face dropped soon after. "I just know I'm not held very highly in your mind. And that…hurts…I guess."<br>Sam didn't have any words to offer. The crayon wax had melded into this weird brown-grey color at this point. This kind of honesty made him fidgety. He felt the urge to move, but before his body did something dangerous, Gabriel gave another chuckle, still in his own head. "It sucks. Feeling like this. Human. Having these human emotions. Feeling like you're so attached to someone…" He looked up at Sam, finally back to earth. "Why the fuck are we pretending nothing happened."

There was a lot being said there. Sam was reminded that Gabriel is actually much, _much_ older than him. Ironically, the ex-trickster had much more experience with emotion. Gabriel was talking about them kissing. Sam finding him crying. The fact that Gabriel gave up the last of his grace. Sam's feeling of intense betrayal. All of it. What the fuck we're they?

Gabreil's heart pounded loud in his ears as Sam rounded the counter, slow enough to give Gabriel time to move, but he just stood there. Watching as his Samsquach brought up a hand to his face and pulled it closer to his. And once again, they both felt like something clicked. It was solid and loud, and not exactly perfect. But, clicked none the less.

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